Wednesday, January 27, 2010


She is afraid that the woman next to her is listening
so she
closes her mouth
moves backward
races for the love seat and
sinks into it.

This party is going nowhere
like the bus rides to Nevada
or submarines.

Forget being abstract.

She listens to the humming around her-
the music she wishes she knew before it played.

Sharing is caring:
that is all she has to say and it isn't enough.

So she, becomes one with the love seat
sinks into it
clutches the velvet cushion in her hands and
listens to the songs she'll never hear of.

This humming is useless.

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