Tristan Robert Lange

Surrounded by Stones

How can one interpret

That which cannot be interpreted?

A gray stone with no markings—

Nothing unique or unusual

To marvel at—

Dense and unmovable,

Never removable,

Making it always disprovable

As it sits there, obstinate in apathy,

Devoid of empathy.

If only it could be moved by telepathy;

Alas,

It’s a damned rock!

The whole conversation’s been a crock;

The raging shitstorm kicks up

Dust in the eyes of default decency—

Damn! Again—

This rock lacks a mouth

And is clearly missing eyes.

Surprise!

If I were wise

I’d stop talking to rocks,

Just like I’d avoid watching clocks,

But my hopeless heart always blocks

Any attempt to stop interpreting,

To stop pleading,

To stop hoping,

To especially stop communicating;

Yet, it’s hard to not talk to a rock

When you’re always

Surrounded by stones.

© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.