Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Were I to be a terrorist, my cause
might simply be for quiet, silence, peace—
not stillness of the spirit, but release
from reckless noise; I’d fight to find the pause
that presses shriek-screams to the ground, that gnaws
the roots annoyance needs to pay its lease
on loudness. Vigilante, not police:
I’d pump the volume down; I’d cut the laws;
I’d strip the highway-shoulders’ cottontails
and screw them as I’d screw morality
to trucktires, singing happy muffled trails—
they’re roadkill anyway; the malady
is overlooked when you’re the one who hails
my quiet unconventionality.

Now where in the rabbit-hole-blazes, did I put my kill-da-wabbit poems?



~A