NOISE
Everyone is talking.
But the words mean nothing.
Mindless, meaningless, harmless
noise.
Words spilling out like water from a spigot.
Forced laughter.
Hopeless blather.
It all sticks to me like algae.
Everyone is talking.
Verbalizing every thought.
Every minor, miniscule, microsophallic
neural transmission.
Flying out of the larynxes, into
the air, onto my skin, like
stucco onto a house.
This is not the first you’ve heard of this complaint,
nor will it be the last,
but it seems everyone is too busy talking
in order to really say it.
Did Shakespeare speak in such
trivialities?
Or Freud, Chaucer, Frost or Pope?
Would gaudy generalities have
issued from Moses’s mighty throat?
Cliches and chatter, vacuous banter
have polluted the air too long.
Urbane and lucid dialogue sounds now
like a bird’s sweet spring song.
I hope one day soon the noise stops
and I won’t have to cover my ears
and we can all talk in voices
that would bring the angels
to joyous tears.
April 1, 2014
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