Saturday, May 10, 2014



Prairie-born, I admit that an ocean has the better horizon.
A world where everything is lower than the surface.
Theory says we crawled out from there, and [I extrapolate]
felt the need to talk.
Any audiologist worth his ear buds will tell you.
Sound travels better through air than water.
This is why we got out in the first place -- naked, shivering.

Thing is, things got regional real fast. Legs meant boundaries.
Same species, face-to-face in an airport now, unable to chat.
Wars erupt over it. The differences. Oh, the talk. The rhetoric.
The irony.
The very thing that spells our best advances, killing us outright.
A new theory afloat -- that the wisest among us are silent
-- still swimming.

© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014

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