Treasure Island

Harley White


Socialization


A silhouette
sits
at a classroom desk—
parroting textbook phrases,
drilled,
dull and dreamless,
by tired teachers
of what and when.

A silhouette
stands
in the marble museum—
posed in inspection
before a blank canvas—
dutifully
noting date and title —
eyes searching
guide's face
before daring
to respond.

A silhouette
sits
in the concert hall—
listening listlessly,
ears strained
to program-note passages—
waiting for the right moment
to applaud.

A silhouette
stands
at the station—
clutching
a ticket to travel,
around the globe,
at programmed pace
in tourist herd.


A silhouette
says
'I do— I will, '
places
a cold, gold ring
on hollow finger—
binding forever,
in sickness,
till death do part.

A silhouette
stands
at attention—
waiting the signal
to march, mindless—
left— right—
left—
right—
rifle ready,
aim, fire.

A silhouette
sleeps
in restless slumber—
drowsed
by the drug
of TV's drone—
dreaming
of multi-multi-millions—
alarm set,
ringing intruder,
herald of nine-to-five.

A silhouette
shuffles
from place to place—
in rigid
rigor-mortis pace,
eyes lowered,
world weary,
deaf
to the song of the wind and rain—
numb to pleasure,
primed for pain—
on
and
on
till death do part.

Submitted: Sunday, October 16, 2011
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