synaesthesia

a found poem

Capital A will be tinged red
5 plus 2 will equal blue

One subject hates driving
Because road signs
Flood his mouth
With flavors of pistachio ice cream
And earwax

Another, hearing "castanets",
Will taste tuna fish

They cannot say why
There is no madeleine moment
The flavors just come

"Civil" to gravy
"City" to mince pie
"Confess" to coffee


Found in « For Rare Few, Taste is in the Ear of the Beholder » in this morning's New York Times.

I wonder what "synaesthesia" tastes like?