Wednesday, January 14, 2009



So I watched this guy doing it, I guess.
Not just me, but everyone, applauding
the toilet plunger thing absorbing the blast.
The word stifle appeared on my mindscreen
and this is not unusual. Things
often appear there, on my mindscreen.

But this time I actually set my drink down.
And, for perhaps the first time, I knew
the value of a stifling.
This song, the progression and melody
in this way, could not be, without it.
Reality would be too loud.

So I closed my eyes, and as I did, I
realized that I was stifling what I could see.
My eyes, wanting something less, shut,
no malice aforethought. “Of their own accord.”
What happens of its own accord?
[At least I’m not driving tonight.]

I looked up as he drained his spit valve.
Jesus Christ, I’ve had an epiphany, and it’s
not even midnight. My own muted life
is no disaster, and there’s still time to order
another Bacardi? All this I learned,
just now, watching Justo play his trumpet.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2009

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