Learning to Listen. Not Possible?
A virgin whispered to me.
The air of their speech
Combined with my ear wax.
Rested on my cheek
As if it were a
Motivated by menthol.
I thought it was a secret.
All day strangers commented:
“You need to wink
To make it go away.”
“I am Adam
And my ribs hurt.”
I prayed for release.
In the morning
About a prominent suicide.
I went to the funeral.
The air was scented with gossip.
I tried to apologize.
But all the graves
Were decorated with flowers.
I was too distracted
By beautiful things.
To acknowledge anything else.
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Comments about this poem (Learning to Listen. Not Possible? by A.j. Binash )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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