WHISPERING

I would like to take you
on a tour of the world

but we must whisper

we must grow over the
Earth's surface
like ivy

we must crawl along
the bushes of Sierra Leone

hiding from the young toughs
and their machetes

young eyes bleeding,
young arms castrating

all while feeding
on Mother's Milk.

I hear all about global warming

but the ice is still thick
in St. Petersburg

the mob buried beneath it

business executives
in puddles of
Red

the veins of life, lineage
spilled on frozen concrete.

and the world tour has only
just begun

my throat is already
dry

I can no longer whisper

I can no longer hide behind
the bushes

or skate across the thick ice

I want to yell out
in a loud shrill cry

but I am frightened

agnostic

so I will imitate the unknowing

I will be silent

or at the very
most

I will wet my throat

I will hide behind
green leaves of hallucinations

I will glide
across the frozen, golden ponds

I will reveal no tenet

I will only

whisper

Stephan Baley
Copyright 2000