Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Friday, March 11, 2005

The Loud Silence

The compromise:

Out of reach due to ordinary circumstances,
we never cross the line of discretion.
The truth of the matter remains mired
in the sludge at the bottom of a coffee cup.
So much time and never a word about
the subtext of walking, talking, and drinking.
Who else would call at this hour of the morning?
When good people are working, musicians sleeping,
when zookeepers are locked behind the turnstyle.

It will have to do.
The warmth of the cup, and nothing more.


  • At 8:45 PM, Anonymous Captian Spalding the African Explorer said…

    T.S. Eliot: I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
    Homer Simpson: mmmm . . .coffeeeee . . .

  • At 8:52 PM, Anonymous Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner said…

    oops: captain not captian, of course--need more coffee I guess


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