Pick up and dial

one of a billion distinguished telephone numbers


from the same ten


Even the ringtone

of intelligence

is muffled

by another's static -

     existence prone

     to when they disconnect.

Spirits through a vocal chord

and streamed

through filtered words -

     a goldpan

     thrown under your soul.

We speak piano key increments

and miss the infinite blend

of relative dissonance

in between -

     We can keep adding octaves

     but it only shifts

     the pitch

     of what's been spoken

     further down the scale.

     And the scores of what we mean

     are hollowed out enough

     to be recognizably obscene...

we fail... we fail... understand

we all are fingers stemmed

from a common hand...

all indebted to

the images we steal

so forget it!

brain chemistry ain't yours

and interpretation's indebted

to every force applied

on it since creation.

speaking of which,

creativity's rather limiting

considering we exist spotlit

by the fraction of light we've ingested.

And the pie as a whole?

Too vast to be molested

by a single

human touch...

we're doomed to continue

regurgitating each other's minds

at similar venues

through scheduled times...

a thousand writers to read,

remember and note

before you scream

they wrote

nothing to help you expand

from your plundering

ways of filth -

     how awful it must be

     to swallow 200 different waffles

     and vomit the same buttermilk.

Man... don't study the Bard

too hard

lest you fall into the trappings

of clapping for thieves

unjustly defined divine

by boneheads like me...

And laugh

at the conflicting attempt

of an author

trying to make something known

by neglecting his own


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