How speak the torn, seizured in thought,
Into the carpet, as they’re taught?
When knees are scabbed, foreheads are bruised
Against synthetic fibers, boozed,
Which side will win the battle there,
The voice of light or of despair?

How speak the weary, beaten down,
Into a screen in her nightgown?
When bags are heavy under eyes
And will is nearly paralyzed,
What is there left for her to do,
And will that be a let-down too?

How speak the angry, wicked thumbed,
Into the fearful ears of some?
When hurt is turned to vengeful pride
And children watch through widened eyes,
What point is served there behind fists,
In binding victims by the wrists?

How speak the nose-turned arrogant,
Into hot air where it is spent?
When eye rolls, head shakes, disregards,
Tally markings on scorecards,
Meet all pretension has in store,
What words are heard when they’re ignored?

How speak the dead, when time ran down,
Into the damp-soiled underground?
When seconds lessened into years
Yet time, the least of all our fears,
Unnoticed, passed us by in haste.
Had all our lives become a waste?


30 thoughts on “Speak

Add yours

                    1. certainly not–Sonic disasters are reserved for those moments when a hedgehog falls in a pit of spikes and loses all his golden rings, OR when a roller skating Sonic waitress falls and hits her head on the curb while serving you your cheeseburger at the drive-up. Those…those are Sonic disasters.


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