Words on a screen
Make a Polaroid of headlines
Camouflaged by mass
By uncountable number
A chorus of sound
sings too many lines
in too many voices
and too loud a word
The bass line crashes in,
one long run-on sentence
Like a runaway train
With no commas for pause
Stop the drums a moment
So I can figure all this out
This barrage on the senses
That hasn’t stopped to see
I can no longer hear the melody
Gotta hear where it’s all going
And where it all began
Gotta hear the forest hum
Through the multiplying trees
So faint the phrase
So steady and pure
So hard to find
Midst all this noise
I need a comma, please
A pause in the sentence
I just need to hear it
Coursing quiet
with its ethereal force
that I might live awake
Just want to be awake