don’t listen
when they tell you
you’re not worth a damn because you don’t breathe fire
there is only about
(x) amount of truth
in the words
falling from their mouths.
we shepherd our words
to the green places
where they resonate like church organs
big and bold bass drum hits to the chest
like breaking for breath just before drowning
these are the places worthy of hearing.
they think the odds of saying something great
are heightened by hissing more
they are the beasts at whom we shake our staffs
SHHHH
they furrow their brows,
worried we are leaking
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