Canto CXII

That flouncing, curly tosspot from last night,
the one who talked loudly over the poets,
must’ve exhausted my reserves of hate

cos normally I’d reach the end of my wits
to hear these different voices babbling
into phones as the driver regulates

the service, but instead I listen in
to each layer of the building symphony
of hissing headphones, ringtones and the din

of languages that all sound Dutch to me.
I do not know the ones with whom they speak,
these solipsistic creatures of the city,

what unintended, sweet music they make.

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Dec 22, 2011 @ 01:02:33

    Yes! A new word “solipsistic” it’s not used much in my neck of the woods. However, here it lends power to the idea of inward looking people who are casually disengaged from the world around them.
    I hope you got in a sarcastic comment to the solipsistic git who talked over poets reading.

    Reply

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