Saturday

You bark-tweet, shout-scream, whisper-dream,
some
thing

into the void,
Clamoring for relevance
for distribution to the masses
the echo back that tells you
your voice reached someone
somewhere
somehow
From here in a quiet room
where words play out a merry tune and out of tune
relinquish themselves unto the blues
the dirges from the last deluge
of everything you couldn’t hold back another minute
this is how we begin it

And I wait for you to really ask me if I want to dance
while wondering if you’d ever take the chance

Now he will walk right up to me
to show off his bravado, with a sweeping bow,
a flourish lending itself to attention-getting, if only
because he knows you hesitate

You bark-tweet, shout-scream, whisper-dream,
some thing…
The reverb of all the others pulls the words out of shape to distortion
the whirling dervish frenzied feeding on a morsel out of context sends them spinning
still hungry
after an argument they’re still picking bits of from their teeth
Right and Wrong got out somewhere before we got to this place,
they took shame with them and that is a disgrace.
But, I remember when dignity dressed up this place like a palace,
in those days when it was acceptable to speak directly to one another,
in a polite manner,
to dare to endeavor to create romance,
to spark a light to fall in love with,
a way to dream while awake
for its own sake.

You bark-tweet, shout-scream, whisper-dream,
some
thing
some thing
something.