The Necessity of Words

Blank pews
Blank stares
Blank slate wiped clean of life

Loud silence
Loud thoughts
Loud sniffles, exaggerated cries

All in, all filled, all dried –
Thatch roofs above tongues,
Tinkering black pumps,
Hustling little white sheets,
Surrendering flags to you and the survivors.

White heat
White fear
White hair blocking my view

Dead air
Death sits
Dead right in front of you

I stare, I stand, I speak –
Words and memories
and quips
and repeat.
Words that know where to land and to leap.

You need those words,
need that hurt,
need this time,
need this curse.

Eat them, feed them, hoard them,
my dear; not just mine,
take them all,
stuff them in your purse.

Mad hope
Mad dreams
Mad reason still exists

He sleeps
You weep
The Word has already fixed this.


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