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stories of noisy silence

ave maria


the darkness deafens his complaints. no one to listen or see. no one to understand. he wears a t-shirt, sandals and desires peace. markets, commodities, and profits accelerate his madness. his father’s bible sits silently collecting wrinkles.

can you offer a voice? an ear? can you find beauty in an awkward child?

he sits drinking his coffee watching. watching the sleepers. silence, insanity and noise are written in their hearts. loneliness, abuse and the crowd indoctrinates their souls. the coffee smells sublime.

sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae.



About david b. clark

a husband and father || a student of philosophy, theology, history, literature, music, art, computer science


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