If I could turn up the silence
and turn down the noise
I’d revel in the world’s collapse.
There would be no soundtrack,
no more clamor of progress,
of promises broken and kept,
of everything being bookended
by everything else.
Politicians and preachers
would have nothing to sell –
we would decide for ourselves,
and be able to hear God.
In such a censored world
I would miss music the most,
and every day’s last words:
Goodnight, I love you.
But I would not miss
the clock’s relentless ticks,
each one saying its own name,
hinting at an imminent boom.
