Hearing Silence

having dealt with the fashionable agonies

you still want to write poetry... but it isn’t
failed ten finger typing or a sustained
dearth of fresh and redeeming ideas
which slays you is it? There, lurking on
the edges of your sanity is a morsel
recognised upon that last mirror visit
which, under normal circumstances,
wasn’t a satisfyingly replete redress

disagreeably you looked like shit

they say it is the same as hearing voices
which aren’t there; now how the fuck can
that have such an effect? Deaf to deafness
isn’t immediate cause for alarm unless
something penetrates suggesting you’re
missing what isn’t being said – and that
is an innuendo death isn’t too far off, but
you’re still hearing silence anyway
so you’re obviously already dead

like writing, so you must be real
©4 April 2010, I. D. Carswell