Muting my Speech
by

“No man is God,” I begin.
Alas! My voice loses its audibility.
It’s not a technical error;
I decipher the microphone operator’s furious frown.
Hi misdeed is a prologue to his psyche.
The foot of my argument tramples on his false belief.
Each generation has its own traditional stupidities.
Millions lived on the flat earth under the lunar god.
When I grill about the superstitions,
it sears the microphone operator.
Who can drive away goblins and specters
from his fantasy forest?
Nonsense has shaped his sense.
Now the audience turns and stares at him.
So the microphone multiplies my voice again.
His ignorance has been impaled on my tongue.
Why should I stop?
No qualm.
I don’t want to nullify my words to mollify him.
More than the international,
I focus on the local follies.
He shields his mind, muting me again.
This is the typical way of an idiot.

First published in The Literary Hatchet

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