I’ve reached the point
where screaming is useless.
And tonight
countless men and women
will scream
from windows and mansions and rooftops and small rooms.
And their screams
are useless too
but necessary.
In my opinion
screaming is best performed
alone.
Solitude amplifies everything.
Those existential octaves
that steal the air and fill
the belly full
Screaming is an art
best perfected
in the romance
of broken people
I once told a woman I was with
"I’ll take utility over Providence any day"
I was falling down drunk and
caught cheating
and she gave me the look
the gargoyle look
of a woman scorned and
she let out a scream
blood curdling and primal.
I didn’t scream back.
That night
she’d screamed enough
for both of us.