Beethoven Knocking By Wendy Cartwright

The bows carve through my eardrums

flossing wax from

grey matter

cleaning and preening

those hard-to-reach spots

that still hold the remnants

of late night burgers and baked salmon

the stink of browned butter

I wear the scent like smoke from a bar

these keys jangle differently

than the ones cut for the door

I never bolt anyway

Wendy Cartwright is a poet/author/reporter/columnist/weirdo out of Columbus, Indiana. Her travels have taken her as far as Mayan Ruins and as near as the filling station. Her undiscerning tastes allow her to find creative fodder regardless of location.  She has been published in various print anthologies and been featured in online publications. With three self-published books, she has the most of anyone on her block.