i wish i was an-alpabetic

these days
it is the noise
the crushing sound
to let words go

a screeching
subterraneous,
my voice dying
makes me write

i wish i could
let all go,
to be without
alpha and beta

to un-know
the terms for
this grinding
and drilling

which continues
in the lake of me,
through rocks
and rusty iron

the poison
of  being me
seated separate
from the dancers

and next to me
where i cannot be,
i see letters, syllables,
i write them down

as if they could save
me, when i have to see
i am a fragment
and a question

i wish i was an-alphabetic,
a shepherd
under a cool tree,
dreaming life

in silence,
eating bread,
listening to
the dog and the sheep