Your scream sounds like a crisp dollar bill
like broken glass flying
like a bullet of water slicing
through a crusty rock
like a mushed soda can
like the fragments from a shattered marshmallow
like rock beating scissors
like paper losing to scissors
like an empty ATM machine
like an overused fireman pole rotting
in the empty station echoing forever
like the fan from an overheating laptop
like an untuned guitar
like a terrible movie that lasts forever
like an explosive pillow fight
like a barrage of bowling pins haunting
a lone bowling ball
like the popping oil from a frying egg
like a baseball punching a mitt
like the feedback from an overly experimental song
like a crying chili pepper
like bad Christmas decorations
like a cast that doesn't fit properly
on your swollen ankle
like a fruitless workout
like a fruit that looks like it has worked out
like the crash of a mighty cymbal
like an empty wallet
like the jingle of your tennis racket
like an awkward USB stick
like the scream I heard when riding the space needle elevator
as we ascended above the vast metropolis
