(1967 / Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)

The Quiet World

In an effort to get people to look
into each other's eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn't respond,
I know she's used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

by Jeffrey McDaniel

Other poems of MCDANIEL (2)

Comments (1)

When she doesn't respond, I know she's used up all her words, so I slowly whisper I love you thirty-two and a third times. very fine poem. i smiled. we sit and breath at the end........... sooo nice.... words, its use, love and the need to listen to and to love in words........ so many points you have put forward in this lovely poem. love it dear poet. tony