Listen to poem:
Personal Questions
What do you think?
Nothing. Again, nothing.
I am as colorless as clear water,
as reflective as a mirror, as empty
as a room everyone just left.
What do you feel?
Nothing. Once more, nothing.
I am as passive as a stone,
as fluid as a stream,
as shallow as a saucer...
Why do you lie? I do not lie --
you see my exposed shell,
the walls inside which I have
become dessicated, shrunken,
hard, withdrawn -- a dried out oyster,
a clam, a snail -- a distracting
polished whelk.
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