We all make a lot of noise
hoping someone will hear us
even the most demure has
her own din, voice thrown
into the mouth of a cave
as she pushes the lid
down tight from within
Her unremarkable voice
still leaks as easy as
breathing, as brittle
as tin
Or
like me:
banging around a cage
a self-made cell not so
much iron but a filigreed
and diaphanous hell
In
the present:
I drag these clenched jaws
behind me, like a ticker tape
stuck to my ankles and toes
like wedding cans and bells
stuck in the throes of a big
hot noise of celebration
melted into concrete and
bouncing down empty halls
of frozen woes, tired toes
and somewhere my feet
keep the clutched rhythm
of me
if
and only if:
sunk below the sill
at the crack of dusk
what remains in a husk
and I wave from my paned
pain, silent on the outside
but what a racket from
within
p.s:
dear sir you did nothing
but throw me out having
once taken me in