There are more hours between
conversations these days –
one
day often dead –
no voices
[less
if you count radio traffic] –
chat
& laughter no by-product after –
silence in each room –
this cold
doesn’t improve things –
still in
stagnant spaces –
it kills me as I
sit –
peace is not it –
They put us
in such cells as punishment –
in
my furnished oubliette I am left
to lift my one-sided voice alone
& call on no one –
emptied am I