by Sherman Pearl
This is the season they swarm--
into your mouth so you’re forced to swallow them,
into your ear whispering secrets and rumors;
the big ones lodge in your brain.
God knows where they come from
or where they’ve been. All you know is the house
is infested. You turn off the lights
hoping they’ll miss you in the dark, shout curses
to scare them away
but no use. Next morning
when you set out Revere-like to warn the town
they’re waiting for you, buzzing with news.
City Hall is loud with them but refuses
your demand for action. The fly-specked police
promise to investigate.
In a church offering shelter you find them feasting
on the minister’s words. Fearing for your sanity
you visit a therapist--there they are,
thriving in the air of reason. He counsels you
not to worry, just live and let live.
His eyes bulge–so big now they see inside you.
He folds you into his transparent wings.
Sherman Pearl was a co-founder of the Los Angeles Poetry Festival and co-editor of CQ Magazine. His work has appeared in more than 50 literary publications and has won several national and international awards. His fifth collection Profanities was published in July, 2008 (ConfluX Press). He lives with his wife, artist Meredith Gordon, in Santa Monica, CA.
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