Communication

Communication

If I ever/

cease to understand/

communicate/

it will -

lock me within a place

I am afraid to be.

Where night is a silent foreign film

without subtitles,

where rest is faint/sporadic

& subject to wild shapes,

where a cool wash of neon-green

spreads over my pupils.

Where television becomes the

heavenly father.

Now I am purposely waiting for dawn.

(There will always be someone out there,

recording this for posterity.)

This circle will not come full,

for fear of exposing itself,

I will not be boxed in

for fear of hitting corners.

Now please!

Hours of canned laughter,

one-line quips and info-mertials,

for the love of God they're eating me

alive!