Vox Humana

 

My voice slipped out as I slept,

taking the path between rows of white narcissus

to the upturned boat, just port side and starboard side,

no deck, no keel, with the world below and beyond.

It had normally slept in the blanket of my throat,

silent, cupped in a chrysalis.

Now it went up and down upon the earth

filterless, making many enemies, there when I awoke.

I hid my voice inside a bell, but it was only louder.

I stuffed it in the pages of a newspaper, but caged birds repeated everything.

I set it in the hands of my lover, and my lover left, cursing.

I hid it in the sound hole of a guitar and it spoke in every language.

I taught it manners and it died of boredom.

I taught it doublespeak and it ran for high office.

I taught it sanctimony and it attracted a congregation.

I taught it flattery and it was beloved. 

Desperate, I taught it poetry and it lay down again in my throat

where my bones fell in love with it.

A doctor diagnosed the shaking as palsy

and prescribed a pilgrimage to Branson or Las Vegas.

_________

for Challenge #1 Desperate Poetry. 

Music: Leonard Cohen A Singer Must Die

A Man

 

A man of some note,

wearing the planets on a chain

said,

'I can't swing a cat without hitting

a faggot or a 

whore

or a

sinner of some variety."

The birds inside my throat stayed silent

but I could feel

their wings

flutter.

I turned my shoulders to July noon

as a favor

to such small, light riders. 

A man of great learning,

with entire

alphabets lined up on the 

tip of his tongue,

kept them all like pets

and taught

each one

to balance prettily on a circus ball

while he went at them hammer and tongs

to no purpose.

Three times that season,

my eyes

became eggs

and fell to my 

throat/

nest.

Finally, flocks flew filigree patterns

all around 

my head

and a man said, "Harlot! Sapphist!"

and a man said, "Anarchist! Libertine!"

but I was an 

aviary/

melody

beyond such puny mewlings.

Fermi LeBouche

Fermi LeBouche killed his wife. 
It was done thus:
"Here's what I think..."
"What you have to understand is..."
"So I told them..."

Neighbors noticed she seemed unhappy.
Then tormented.
Then dead.

One look at her lying there, bleeding from her ears
was all the gendarmes needed.
Fermi was arrested, tried and sentenced to the guillotine. 

"Monster!" cried the crowd.
Down came the awful blade. 
Someone grabbed Fermi's head from the basket.
"In my opinion...."
"Let me tell you something..."
"What you don't understand is..."

Fermi LeBouche's head kept talking.
It criticized the executioner's methods.
It held itself blameless for the death of Mrs. LeBouche.
It told a series of very tired old jokes and laughed itself giddy.

Month after month, his head kept talking.
"Why, in my day..."
"That reminds me of the time I..."
"If you want to know what I think..."
Finally, a soldier returning from the wars was riding on a wagon 
with Fermi LeBouche's endlessly loquacious noggin.
On and on, opinion after opinion,
story after story,
unsought advice after unsought advice.

They say that Fermi's last words were
"You can't kill Fermi LeBouche with that little thing..." 
but though he never admitted it,
he was badly mistaken.
________

for Camera FLASH!