six views of silence (20170406)

the air doesn’t stir
or ring

you look my way
and pretend to smile
but not even a whisper
passes your lips

like dropping a pin
in a vacuum
no tinkling chime

oppressive and heavy
being mummified
wrapped in heavy wet bandages
soaked in eucalyptus
hard to breathe and move
but harder still to
want to move

your laughter is a ghost
hollow and absent and see through
and everywhere at once
and all in my head

horses spin
a sickly pantomime
the calliope
rests in ruins
scraps of metal tubes
black and white keys
broken wooden legs
discarded brass ring


It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 6

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5 thoughts on “six views of silence (20170406)”

    1. Thanks very much! I’m never entirely sure what my poems mean. But I associate that smell with a heavy, almost medicinal odor that ties in with the stupor induced mummification.

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