Poem of the Day 10.01.08

october

they don’t know
that it’s sunday night
and quiet
and october
that the trees need silence
to die,
and the squirrel the quiet
to find nuts
for the winter.
they only know inane chatter,
leaning on a beat-up car,
the bleep of the cellular phone,
as he calls his woman
a whore
then tells her to act like
a lady.
they only know the cold
blue light
of the television,
as cold as the blue in the
evening sky,
but never nearly so beautiful.
they only know one car stacked
upon another,
inhaling gasoline fumes,
and brutal words spewed
into the night,
as neighbor fights neighbor
over nothing,
and cat fights cat
over nothing,
and nation fights nation
over nothing.
as the dogs bark lonesome
as the trees die
and leaves fall all over
stupid humanity,
and october lifts its mother tongue
to sigh
its god breath.