Lost For Words

Orator, where might you be?

I am at a loss for words

I need you to do my speaking without leaking out my hidden privacy

Without touching down upon matters of the skin

All of us are sinners somewhere along our busy little roads

Birds

Bees

Flowers, trees

Antelopes

Horny toads

These walls are closing in on me

Some force outside me is peering in

Something out there can see me and I don't give a Tinkers fuck

(Although Tinkers are relatively inexpensive these days)

Let them watch me being made love to by the silence

Let them watch me fornicate and prance

Let them taste the salt that drips off my brow madly just after I dance the final dance

They will love what they see

They will masturbate

They will learn how to verbalize, how to orate all of their feedback

Tell me where I am overdone

Tell me where I lack character or poise

Listening in through the door of my domain where I block with an echo all of the noise that can be heard out there on the savage streets

Where magnitude meets malnourishment and pragmatism meets posterior flex

Out there, where I can hear the chant that ripples through concrete hallways

From hexes and hoaxes carried and cast out

Where the emptiness has amassed where abundance once thrived in plentitude

It is now but a dirty, rude little picture out there

How could anyone be unaware of what is going on?

Orator, please step forward..

My will to speak is gone...

1-30-2012