"Clothes 127" by Kenneth Larot Yamat

Collisions: Soap and Bathtub
formerly an ekphrastic poem

Think of soap, and then think of a bathtub,
     a bathtub filled with all the best gin and
   a little bit of orange or apple juice
and think of them colliding in the air,
and then think of the sound of vapor rub
   with menthol and other botanicals
by Vicks, then think of how you'll stop and stare

at the collision of a bar of soap
and a bathtub, at the side of a road,
  where there is a serial killer and some
     other idiotic mothers and fathers
        who do not know what to do when
     there is a collision, and whose gawking,
which will cause a traffic jam, think of rope
and then think of a suicidal toad

hanging at the end of the rope. It's dead.
  but you can bring it back to life if possible
and the only thing it hears is bubbles
from soap and the bathtub, only Fred
Flintstone is left who has stone age troubles

to deal with. The sound is so exquisite
which hearing before death is requisite.