|
POETRY BY
DAVID WEINSTOCK
SOUND MEN
In between words, there are silences.
My sound man finds them all.
He marks them with a pencil
and snicks them out with his blade.
Brown silence in various sizes
ticks into the wastebasket:
a quick breath as long as your finger.
a pregnant pause you could wrap around your waist.
Hour after hour I watch him,
my sound engineer and his razor blade,
paring my interviews into clear speech.
How patiently he corrects every speaker's diction,
how gently he teaches the tongue-tied
to speak clearly as Demosthenes.
Yet I've never known a sound man
who didn't cherish a shoe box full
of some great man's stutters and slips
and a secret plan to splice them back together
into one long nightmarish stammer,
into something truly unspeakable.
David Weinstock is a former staff writer for the L.L. Bean catalog. Helives a life filled with wonder in Middlebury,
Vermont, where he is a member of the Spring Street Poets.
Back
to Home | Back
to Poetry
|
More BMR Authors' Books:
Making Scenes by Adrienne Eisen
Small Boat with Oars of Different Size by Thom Ward
Viking Brides by Richard Cumyn
Interesting Monsters by Aldo Alvarez
The Gauguin Answer Sheet by Dennis Finnell
Rosicrucian in the Basement by Robert Sward
Bloodroot, the book and Bloodroot, the excerpt
by Aaron Roy Even
|