Nice Hums

The fan blades whirring, the refrigerator vibrating,
the air conditioning unit kicking on, kicking off,
kicking on, blowing air at seventy-six degrees,
all these mechanical hums we’ve arranged about us
are good hums. They are nice hums.

True, a factory’s symphony
is not actually a symphony.
Forklift blades scraping concrete floors,
machines droning, beeping, air compressing,
greasy bearded men shouting over machines
have most of us headed for earmuffs.
These noises are not music-
let us not confuse it
with Flight of the Bumblebee,
transmitted, though it may be,
through an electrically powered sound-producing machine.

But besides music per se, what else is musical?
The buzzer that buzzes at the laundry cycle’s completion,
the beeper that beeps as you press the button,
were not intended to be musical, only functional.

Functional, as the lofty warbling of a songbird is functional,
as the low-down crooning of a turtle about to die is functional.
The bird’s song in the evening may be nothing more
than a clearing of the throat,
a gurgling attempt to clear twigs from her esophagus.
The turtle’s final moan is also entirely functional,
a chemical reaction, in fact,
spurred on by another chemical reaction
which was spurred on by yet another chemical reaction
(and on and on, until you arrive at the
Eternal Chemical Action.)

The turtle’s moan moan moan was produced when
the turtle lived a turtle life and died a turtle death.
The moans one could explain with a reference to the brain.
I sway to the sound of the moan moan moan.

And the hum-hum-hums of our everyday machines,
those sonic manifestations of functionality,
forever will they hum hum hum
hum hum hum
hum hum hum
before the Throne of Eternal Chemical Action.