We speak in codes


We speak in codes

Not because the house is bugged

Though every sensible fiber

Points twelve o'clock 

There is a silence at 3

Even with the power lines

Even with the humidifier

The air purifier and the field mice

I should strikethrough silence

And drop in hush

Or cut-delete silence

And paste in hum

But then it is known

The tensile wavelengths I fail to mention

Are not just there

But growing outside the scope of perception

Outside the window

Out past the vines

That wind around fence posts

Like tense clock springs

Waiting to clink and clank and click


We speak in codes

Not because we fear the tick

Although a mighty adversary 

We drown our fears in combustibles

After tweezing out the painful bits

Knowing it might be too late

Past midnight and past three

Past the dusty cake of earth

And rivers of fat

Past the courteous subcutaneous

Into the circadian highway

Buoyant and free

Making allegiances with those that will receive

Sending forward messages that might deceive

More subversive than a fake moustache

More elusive than a viper's tail 

Or a vapor trail or a vibrant detail


We speak in codes 

Not because we fear the creeper

The ankle weights are just too much

A sense of clan and order

But also a red flag having crossed the border

We speak these halves

Because wholly anything is just too much

Deeply embedded in the shank

Before it was a splinter

When it was just raw red oak

Or plank or lignum vitae

Down in the foxhole

When tree is sufficient

Wood is sufficient

We get right to it

But above ground

In the majesty of daylight

We run in diagonals

So as not to confuse our nature

Diverting the whole of it

Wrapping it with a yellow ribbon

And whispering bitter fruits behind it

We remember that there is no back

No front or side

Only twirling around

Until we are dizzy enough to sleep

Keeping the lines of communication open

The tubes of evaporation sloping

The runes of remuneration unspoken

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