Rex In The City

what else do i say?

I'm choking on my own silences.

There is, but, little hope of a CPR.

There is no good man around.

There is nothing left,

But the voice box.

And crackled pretentious voices are heard.

Like old broken radios.

There is calling out.

Now that im full,

While every one is gay,

I just ate silences,

Handfulls gobbled down in hurry,

The table was full,

Of silenced images, 

And a box of pickled love.

and now i choke...

on silences and shadows..