Silent Partner

No need to mention any of the names of those who ask me, “Why so quiet, James?” In truth, I’m quiet since I do not choose to shallowly discuss the evening news, to idly chat about weather reports or wager over who should win at sports. And why reveal the details of my life to those caught up in private griefs and strife, who listen just to items they can use to gossip, harbor ill, taunt or abuse, or those who, learning of me, would dismiss as crazy anything that runs amiss to attitudes with which they feel at home and scoff at the suggestion they might roam beyond the kind of life they’ve preconceived or outside of the faith they have believed? Why waste a discourse on those without will, to whom stupidity’s a social skill? And why discuss philosophy and art, or matters even closer to my heart, or, with light-hearted wit, why try to start with those whose highest humor is a fart? This is really why I’m quiet today, though, “... just tired, I guess,” is all I’ll say.