December 21, 1977
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Wavelengths
Bribed by the multifaceted quasi-barbed yet indelibly carefree, intellectualized vocabularies asking nothing but inane questions and offering nothing Save sactimonious fart-cracks At a world gone mad. What, one wonders, is he talking about as we puff our joints carefully listening analyzing nothing "Ask me if I care." "Do you?" "No." The people conversationalize They swim through the bullshit Forsaking true feelings And is it true that everyone's clock mechanism winds at a different rate of speed And I never can find synchronization with anyone anymore? Well, we don't like the bullshit But is it that everyone else doesn't really want to listen doesn't really want to know doesn't really care "Ask me if I care?" "Why not?" "Forget it." What are words But a hindrance To conversation And what is idle conversation But a hindrance To our wavelengths. The Deltas will never feel at home with the Gammas The Gammas will never feel at home with the Betas The Betas will never feel at home with the Alphas and the Alphas will feel lonely as they manufacture conversations and no one cares to listen and no one cares at all and no one learns anything at all from his fellow human beings. Tune in on my wavelength And I'll try to tune in yours.
copyright 1999-2004 by Michael F. Nyiri
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