Why So Quiet

December 19th, 2008 · No Comments

“Why so quiet?” you ask, interpreting silence for

distress, disturbance or, worse possibly, boredom.

What should be said?

“I know a woman who takes her shirt off for a living”.

“I know a man who can K.O. another man in only

one punch and now lives in the Kansas State Pen”.

“I know a man who can hammer nails into his nose

and a woman who ties cherry stems in her mouth”.

“There is a bowling alley bar where I drink for free”.

“There is a hospital roof where crows prefer to perch”.

“There is a secret name for god and it is nefarious”.

“The smallest gong trembles with expectant vibrato,

to end the era of hexes”. “My mother has suffered

the same post partum depression for thirty years now”.

“Brownstone buildings are not brownstone

But instead brown stuck brick”. These things could be said

but who is listening? You are not. My center simply

seeks that part of me that is yours,

that is at peace.

Tags: 2008 · AP Issues · December 2008 · Poetry

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