Lit eZine Vol 6 | p-8 | POETRY | One’s Poem

When the depth of one's personality 
is tied to an equation with the dexterity
of one's decibels,
an aspiration comes around
to be a rock,
to be an island,
fortified by the poetry 
of the ostracized:

owners of the souls so branded
by body language
that an honorable nod
to a cultured eccentricity
would be considered a conspiracy 
to commit congruence of presence.

To be themselves 
is to slam contentment 
into years of compromised comportment;
no capacity of sheepish smiles
earns admission to the shelter of frivolity.
The con in conversation 
disarms one decibel 
at a time like a Trojan Horse;
batteries of fools fitted
with loquacity ignite
a brash battalion of belly laughs
like torches for the roundup
of deviants into their cathartic Bastilles
of libraries and coffee houses.