Jody Azzouni


Cries Without Sound

Originally published in Z Miscellaneous 4:1, 1990
Added 4/08/2021
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Cries Without Sound

Poem | Jody's Notes



  You would not talk to me yesterday,

  so now my crippled tongue is swollen

  with the thoughts I wanted to express.


  This letter too is crippled.

  If you pull it out of its stamped glove,

  it will reach out to you

  like a fingerless palm.


  How will you keep from laughing?

  It is not warm, it has no grip,

  no pulsing wrist, no blood,

  but instead only the blue markings

  of something sucked dry of sound.

  You would not listen before.

  Why should you hear anything now?


  Eyes are cold creatures

  safely gazing from their buckets.

  If they have ears, it is as turtles do.

  If they are touched,

  it is only by their own moisture.


  I can hope for this much at least:

  Should my pen’s dark tears reach your eyes,

  perhaps the soft orbs will echo

  after their fashion, soak my image free

  from your optic nerves,

  stain the pages with it.