Wordless

I guess we ran out of talk –
the who’s that and what does it mean
stuff we used to survive on 


and the unrequited repartee
which burdens silence still
as tacitly cynical clichés 


this debris seems greater
than leavings of
just two disaffected souls 


like take-away scraps
balanced on the lips
of wordless garbage bins
© 26 August 2009, I. D. Carswell