A Noise Affair
The quiet is in here somewhere, surely.
The child with the hammer
is taking anything it can grab
in its tiny hands and smashing it.
For his coin in a fountain,
a would-be lover
gets a loud watery spray.
Some words turn the corner of the block
and are never spoken again.
A cool wind is akin to a sigh.
The earth has a pulse – when all else fails.
To hear from somebody,
an old woman ripples
the wrinkles of her skin.
Street-workers know only the one way –
shout over machinery.
The tiny things that are
in various stages of becoming
can be listened to with great effort,
disproportionate desire.
Clip-clop. People moving do it all the time.
A cell phone rings and everybody answers.
A runner is so fast,
he’s ten yards ahead of his own voice.
New secrets are whispered.
Old ones are shouted.
Some people meet
and only the eyes speak.
A solitary man
writes all of this down.
His pen squeaks.
John Grey is an Australian born poet. Recently published in Oyez Review, Rockhurst Review and Spindrift with work upcoming in New Plains Review, Big Muddy Review, Willow Review and Louisiana Literature.