Wednesday, August 22, 2012

3854. TALK

TALK
Re-position this light for the
morning to come? Watch as
the workmen go about their
tasks. This torrid silence is
deafening and (as the writer
once wrote) all darkness is
now visible: Milton, William
Styron, one of those goons.
And I am watching Earthmen,
humans, blindly toe their lines.
They've parked their truck on
the morning grass - stepped out,
and stand there, smoking. An
endless flurry of words leaves
from out their open mouths.

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