Who has
not yearned
that way?

I had a friend
who often said
he preferred

the company
of strangers
walking about,

hatless and
like him

in the cold
and windy city;
or the sounds

made by his own
bathroom commode
to the thin

leaking out
of mouths

no longer
on fire—
Give me

the garrulous
voices of all
kinds of rain,

crickets, frogs:
their naked words,
their saying.


In response to Via Negativa: Gunfire.

2 Replies to “Talk”

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