9.5
(2 votes)
| Rating | Rated by |  | | 10 | Boudica | | | | 9 | jonpenny | |
You must login to vote
|
|
|
What art is choicer than the talk?
A thousand thousand colors paint
the clip snip nip nibble bubble pop
of you and me while we bob
for puns, slip flirt, nudge points,
poke parody inside, joke, tumble, prop
the social pole, the hidden pile
of life's dark hole. Not grave, just deep.
The eyebrow dance, smile, shrug, hands up,
hands out, hands point, hands fist,
sideways glance that says what's said
is less or more than puffs of air.
Bright lens flare of context. All about
the angle of the phrase, the way
you don't say
what you don't need to say.
The way I know that you don't say
what you don't need to say.
It's all been said, and will be said again
in other ways, on cold, warm, broke,
flush, distant, closer, tender, harsh,
loose, bound, free, forgotten, glowing
different days.
We work at this. The vital whole built
on whispered leaves of play.
More coffee, please. More traffic noise.
More brush of coats and cell phone buzz.
More rain in slithered tracks on windows,
circumscribed by others' colors, background
noise does not distract but emphasize
the drip of words we let slide down.
Like stalagmites, conversation built of tiny
microscopic stuff, dissolved in wet, wry words,
grown statuary, monumental
witness to our shared wonderful and verbose worlds.
------
______________________________________________
I blog irregularly at TinkerX. I'm also on Twitter. @andyhavens, go figure.
|
Rest for the questions
