Talk To Get By

I am doomed to not know the Silence

That I desperately need to find—

Even in this strangely isolated, luxurious place,

There rings an irreducible noise in my head—

 

Which for most of the time,

Hums like a muffler,

Drowning out all the fine things

That could be otherwise verbalized.

 

But every now and then,

This Droning would up itself several notches,

And become various buzzings of the uttermost

Jarring and painful kind—

 

Rendering me handicapped,

So that I should Speak peculiar, alien sounds—

 

Impaired to divulge;

Failing miserably to even identify

What was it

That I originally intended to clarify.

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