Thge Geometry of Silence

The geometry of silence Is like The weather of a melancholic Day, Sometimes beautiful, Sometimes foreboding, But always needed sometimes, Sometimes. The geometry of silence turns And twists And is not perfect until You need it to be. Need it to be. After a day when silence wraps Itself around Like a warm blanket It’s almost like long-prayed-for Death— Not joyous, but comforting. When left alone long enough, Subjects begin to emerge out of the earth, Under your feet; where you can hope The earthworms hold some sort of wisdom Like the wisdom you foolishly lack. Noisy triangles are silenced with concepts Of the world trapped within screaming Squares of conformity circling round the Scope of obscurity (infinity)—all’s lost. If the subject had been physics— There would be nothing left to talk about.