Spoken Word
but someone is watching my mouth
My tonsils shift, my uvula shakes –
like a popular tune on the radio,
Understanding isn’t what I mean
on moonless nights, to empty streets
I sing, and if someone comes by
I cough once to show I’m in earnest.
there is this problem with it,
which is, in fact, the speaking –
monumental as if carved from stone,
his pointed ears sharp against the sky.
no response – no one speaks to me.
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