Monday, May 19, 2014


She sits next to you and to the fan.
She switched it off
on purpose.

She cannot take the noise and tumbling,
transmitters that jump
from ear to nerve to cell to thought.
rotate in her head,
you without switch
- she cannot find a single button.

My friend, you are
I am frank, you are
not even yet a friend.

Doesn’t it feel good
to know that something
might transmit, shouldn’t
you leave it
there, forever.