He always listened to people. (And
to birds, for that matter.) Now that seems
to be all he does--listens, without talking.
He's forgetting how to converse. So
is society, but that's different. Or is it?
He feels like a worker at a word warehouse.
He opens the loading bay, and people
deliver their words, which he shelves.
Sometimes the freighters hang around,
expecting him to say something, so
he tries, and they leave. He's relieved.
He knows he shouldn't be. He stands
listening to the warehouse quietly.
hans ostrom 2020
to birds, for that matter.) Now that seems
to be all he does--listens, without talking.
He's forgetting how to converse. So
is society, but that's different. Or is it?
He feels like a worker at a word warehouse.
He opens the loading bay, and people
deliver their words, which he shelves.
Sometimes the freighters hang around,
expecting him to say something, so
he tries, and they leave. He's relieved.
He knows he shouldn't be. He stands
listening to the warehouse quietly.
hans ostrom 2020
