scarecrow poetics/essays

I speak what others merely think
The banal the inane yet the profound
Their thoughts are guarded by fear
Mine are encouraged by fear
Fear of silence
Chasms of nothing
Like in my dreams
But what are good dreams called
The bad ones have a title at least
Like rich people do
To be bad is to be named
And then I open my mouth
And out come the words
From the recesses of my troubled mind
Other people do it too …
I saw a documentary with people in it
People who liked to fill the silences with words
There’s one in my local park
He shouts at everyone
Except his dog
In summer he rides a horse topless
It makes me laugh then feel sorry
He never catches eyes
Probably just a cold to be honest
But he likes to ride his horse
Walk his dog, and shout
Each to their own
So why my hang-up ?
I read that at Manchester United
The goalkeeper has my problem too
He has 4% tourettes
How do they know its not 3% or 5% ?
Maybe I should communicate with him
Share my thoughts
Break the silence together

S. Monaghan © 2005.