What Epicurus Doesn’t Know

H.Z.

He deemed what’s real
is what we sense but let’s
be real what if

my sense is not his
sense what if there’s nothing
in common between us not

even two cents worth no
loose change I sense
a worsening

of my senses my two
ears loosen tonight
in my dreams I too lose

delusions I let them loose
from their roots pearly like the moon pink
spheres duped on thoughtless pennies

Epicurus penned the moon
is nothing but a shining
disc refracted from our eyes I wonder

when he lends his ear
to silence does he feel
peaced like plated

peaches arranged in a fine
science or a placated moon
beaming because I’m in pieces

what does it mean if all I am loaned
is not peace but instead screams
a squealing appliance a moaning

of faucets leaking skin
sinned off silver
furred fruitless bats

what would Epicurus
exclaim about that perhaps
this whole world is undersea & aye

I am the only one
reeling I reel my ears backward
from the bathroom sink stack them

for the rats downstairs I wake
my dreams to silence I try I
try I try & I am