when I don't speak
to anyone;
I see lawns and endless
sidewalks, gruff local
traffic, dogs.
And this is remarkably
fine with me.
See,
these silent things
and I, we get along
famously
as Adam
and all of the
creeping things in Eden.
Then again, If I were him,
humanity wouldn't have
lasted too long.
I'd have balked
at the thought
of giving up
an inch—
one single iota
of lonesome perfection;
I would never have consented
to the overnight
theft
of a smidgen
of that which was
given to me—let alone
the indispensable
symmetry
of my rib cage—
just for the sake
of a little
conversation.
