Sunday, March 13, 2016

Breaking the Silence

The silence needed to be broken
It needed to be broken in two
We need to revere the outliers and stop playing to an inside straight
I need to learn to take my licks and to not complain when things don’t go my way

We oftentimes bring it upon ourselves, but that’s not the whole story
The whole story is rarer than a solar eclipse, but I don’t want to bore you with the details
And here we stand awaiting another Pomp and Circumstance failing of epic proportions
And the next time we drive across country I will do my best to raise the corn from the shuttered Earth

She broke her silence by going onto CNN
I broke my silence when I left the wilderness and entered the big city for the first time
Met Allen Ginsberg. The meeting wasn’t very memorable for either one of us, but that’s often the case when two Jewish poets meet and have nothing to talk about, but the poems they wrote about their assholes.
I am so tired of going against the grain that I’m considering selling myself to the highest bidder if they’ll have me and the status quo can eat crow all day long

The silence needed to be given a good talking to
It needed to be taken out back and shot in the face
This isn’t Chicago where de-escalation is the elephant in the room everyone refuses to feed peanuts and give a fighting chance
I need to learn to lick the melting ice-cream cone before it gets all over my hands and I end up with a pocketful of crumpled napkins and sticky, unforgiving hands.

Charles Cicirella

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