benediction (20170324)

this poem was going to
be about me, a really good one
i could feel it in my teeth
the way they ground together
edge to edge, a squeak
before shattering

close so close
if i could remember a word
just one word
i could piece it together
water the seed
watch it grow

i’d never have to write again
because after i put that to paper
what else
what more could i
have to add

walking in a land
where i am not heard
i cannot hear the words
of the army of deaf mutes
only the popping
of gristle as they work their
jaws like meat grinders

or am i the one
who makes no sound
and cannot receive
a benediction

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