Of a Need for Silence?
It’s not enough to say I disdain my voice,
Decline the past congealed within its
Timbre, a family curdled there,
Invested in each others’ limitations;
A cousinage tuned to interrupt all
Escape from its miasma, a brother’s
Voice keening within the morass, returning
Irritation for irritation, uncanny in its
Sound, for similarity of tone to mine,
In its lust for mischief, its capacity
To render indifference
Into spite, debased, at this distance
From the, ‘me in them’, the, ‘them in me’; I
Plead guilty to this ‘mush’. I confess
I miss them, as they threatened I would,
And admit I may be forgetting them
Ever more completely. Even so, this
Is not the way to set about telling
What is left to say and meaning it; this
Is the instant of purge before trial
Begins, when the advent of poetry
Renders all claim of injury between
Contending parties null, void or
Irremediably unresolvable. Even
Within the noise of time itself, I dare not
Swear, except to silence my own silence.
upstart
juncture xxxquestion xxxverb
xxxxwords: that’s the ... couldn’t
xxxxxxxxhelp but come up with verbs
limits xxxtwistsx nonsense in
xxxxfree-fallxxxplurals for return...
xxxxxxxxwho says such things without
provocationxxxgiven and received
xxxxa long forgotten bent xgathering
xxxxxxxxby ledges xxxconvergent growths
grip x grit x grid
xxxxwill there be enough water and
xxxxxxxxwhere will I change my batteries
why am I muting this about
xxxxdoubting yesterday’s tomorrowlands
xxxxxxxxenough xxxwhere is the fire
a door through traffic breaks
xxxxinto transparent mirrors
xxxxxxxxdoesn’t countxxxrules forsaken
telegraphy has taken over transmissions
xxxxembarrassingly: i wish i could
xxxxxxxxsail past recursion
or find exactly the word
xxxxto suggest i am not a flower pot
xxxxxxxxbrittle smooth and wrapped around
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxmyself
an opening
certainly a particular color prevailed
divided by geometry... the
narrowing of convergence and its
reverse cannot explain
the temper of concessions... loud
though they seemed above
their displacement... a trifling
difference... only nibbling
at the edges of our cacophony...