GENERATIONS Copyright (C) 1997 by Not Nice Music
II. A COLLECTION OF OBSCURITY by Edwin M. Drogin

53. Untitled

When mood cries
Words die.
I can't say half of what I feel.
Like cat that quietly steals
past time.
Leaps into rhymes.
Nothing can be caught-just hummed
Sway in time to the music.
Make crooning sounds and try to say
With nothing but some old cliche
What really is a cliche in itself.
Love, life, death, war, blood, lust, must must, must
I? Or else the biting wit...the knife..the gleaming sword.
Cuts clean they say.
	Is it clean to say,
		Chain around your neck
		Strangling in words
		Dance howling around the wreck
		and praise your lords.
			Face twisted...and yet you smile.
So hard to be clever.. but why do you cry?
If he is born..so will he die.
	I will hurt you.
	Is a smile...?
	No.. a phantasy..a self delusion.
	You could call a frown a smile..but see how the words trip me.
	Insidious they thrust into the argument...curl once about the mind
	and strangle..gently...oh so gently..till you no longer hear
	a whisper not of words. Truth will out..but how much truth
	is just of words? We are trained to say all. And stand and shout..all!
	Wrong..wrong..wrong. ha! I cannot begin to tell you how much truth I...
...and you...but words have killed me. Staked me to the ground.
I struggle to rise to transcend. But I look down and see you writhing.
Helpless to understand. I will place a footnote on my head.
Dance a jig of criticism around your bed.
	Quick...the covers over...sleep!
	So much easier than trying.
	Don't you finally sleep forever anyway?
	Sleep now.
		Not the leap from beckoning window
		Not the poison or the gas.
		Sleep is easier than that.
			Just walk into class.
			Say hello.
			Say the weather's nice.
				(no..no not that.)
			You've outgrown it?
				What a pity...the only clever thing you ever said.