Speaking Is

A trapezoid. Piano keys fill soup bowls.
The moon wreaks havoc on the dandy
in a field of proclamations.

A chamber pot. Walk-in closet rife
with used jackhammers. I find a helmet
by the washer-dryer for my free

free-speech call. The power dips
during dinner, sends every clock protesting.
I am reminded I do not declare

enough. Not customs—accounting.

Credit

About this Poem

“I wrote this poem while thinking about, yes, the age old conundrum that is language. But also, how there is much more power to speaking up than I’m always comfortable being responsible for.”
—Cara Benson

Author

Cara Benson

Cara Benson earned a BA in communications from Skidmore College and MFA in creative writing from Goddard College.

Benson is the author of the poetry collection (made) (BookThug, 2010) and three chapbooks. She is also the editor of Predictions (ChainLinks, 2009), a collection of cultural writing.

Benson teaches in the low-residency creative writing program at Prescott College in Prescott, Arizona, and lives in upstate New York.

Date Published

09/09/2014