the missing ear piece

why are all the pro-fess-(or)(s) talking?

why of course . . . (bemused)

it is not so clear to me I’m (confused)

Not so clear to them either . . . 

they are saying – things – you see? 

they only know how to say –

a string of words, subject predicate phrases

glued to gather in con-cepts and cat-ego-ries

do they know why they say?

or that which says. . . (is that one, many or no one?)

have they ever paused to

follow this voice to its source (does it have any –

where is the source of a sewer?

diarrhoea, indigestion, a choleric intellect)

to grow so light of possessions,

quiet as to know a whisper

from a gasp in the space between

and foresee a lurking whimper

doubt many have done so

phobia of silence when speech

is all the craze – a frenzy of

opinions with swords & pencils drawn

every tap on the touch screen,

every click of the key bored

the output of a large language model

this Turing machine that runs and runs

(unsure)

perplexed (how & why)

it does not come to a halt

all these pod-castings,

con-verse-ations

and circuitous talks

what are they all about?

a plea to be heard,

without prejudice

alienated coming of an age driven mad

what is missing? in this age of mics and

speakers, blue tooth air pods and AiGi-ed green screens

a          listening (ear . . . a heart) un-beguiled

the

rivers

long

and

slow

journ

to        merge with the Sea

cease with in the Sea

be come the Sea

before the clouds

disperse in smoke

several manners of suggesting

never getting any close . . .