Patient (Eight) Zero (Eight)

Sadism has many faces,

some leather clad, some bare.

But there is a deviation

that has nothing to do with sight,

but sound.

How does it start?

Does it begin with a viewing

of Ricardo Montalban tormenting

a horror struck Walter Koenig?

Is it related to a love 

of snarky robots relishing truly awful cinema

but twisted to suit aural depravity?

But fiends of which I speak

are not reliant on luckless spacemen.

Oh no. It is far simpler

to find the right worm,

squirming on the Top 40

or wriggling on a playlist,

and

just

drop

it

into unsuspecting ears,

then laugh at the victim’s distress.

Auricular Dominitis,

the uncontrollable desire to implant earworms,

is real.

Perhaps we can pity those afflicted,

because they must have had an earworm first

to even think of such horrors 

and be driven to the resultant cruelty.

As the first patient, they simply desire

company in their agony.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

This brass egg from Eliora looks far too cute for earworms

but I couldn't help but want to show it off. 

Song Choice: Macarena by Los Del Rio (Yes, I am chuckling evilly now. Why do you ask?)  

This poem was prompted by Magaly Guerrero's Dark Poetry for the Cruelest Month 2016: Fictitious Affliction Symptoms