Talkers talk—talkers win.

The whole world
a sound cesspool
minus action—pressure
on the eardrum, on the brain:
words, Words, WOrds, WORds, WORDs, WORDS, WORDS, WORDS, WORDS, WORDS
shoved, crammed, hammered, pushed, jammed in—
and me, a quivering mass, looking at the stares
from stare to stare
hearing the loudness as loudness.


Talk, the only currency; and I
the poor fool.

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