Starve Poem by john wake

the silence creeps, crawls, and weeps.
The voices sleep, starve, and into dreams they creep.”

Cascaded into a masquerade, where masks act like mirrors,
Deep inside the crowd, through the passage
Dancers collide
And their movements are the drunkard’s walk.
Nothings harmonized,
Just the faces.
That draw an eye.
Gazing into his pilsner;
An excuse arises, she’s smiles, strains, and soliloquize
He like the Venus de Milo, bore cupid in her eyes,
Filling their hourglasses with wine,
Each sip slowly stretching time.
***
Now she moans, moves and is merry,
The springs oscillate,
Two is nothing new.
Finally the alarm rings, it vibrates, her hand is lifted
Half asleep, a cigarette is burnt, she gazes,
No monologue nor dialogue,
Both in agreement;
“the silence creeps, crawls, and weeps.
The voices sleep, starve, and into dreams they creep.”
Only to depart when the pissing is done.