All the same words. All the
same words in various orders.
All the same orders, word
for word in so many words.
It all sounds the same. It
was.
Are we saying the same
thing?
Are you reading the same
thing? We are saying the same,
reading the same things, so
those are not mine?
If it is all the same to you
too, it must be as disappointing to you too.
What is this maddening
monotony, cacophony?
I am trying to say something
original. Nothing was left.
No wonder none
understands-meaning-deeper than face,
used all the same pretty
words until threadbare, there,
two too many times. Make
more!
Also, and Silence, I have
said. I have changed for a mind,
momentarily in lieu of
reverberating or reiterating more
echoes in empty rooms, pantries,
and needs nearly nothing
for nourishment, nothing can
be said hereto hear,
to hear only the same small
words all lined up
in repoemed formation,
loaded with an air of epiphany,
see, repetitive can be
reflective, refractive, prismatic
mirror opposites 'true to
scale'
said enough, with lips red
wardback
‘devil’
Painting by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot, (c.1870) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
