I don’t know what to say
I want to tell you
I am trapped inside my voice
my teeth like shingles
with nothing but pine needles
fallen from the trees overhead
above those the buzzards circling over
the hill looking for
smelling for something dead below
somewhere far off I can hear a brook
figuring out its language like a child
it doesn’t know what to say either
but the difference is
it will find out one day
I want to tell you
I am trapped inside my voice
my teeth like shingles
with nothing but pine needles
fallen from the trees overhead
above those the buzzards circling over
the hill looking for
smelling for something dead below
somewhere far off I can hear a brook
figuring out its language like a child
it doesn’t know what to say either
but the difference is
it will find out one day