When the silence is all too much—
could scream like I'm out of touch
and use you—sisters and brothers.
You could be my mothers and fathers.
But there are rules and roles for a stage to be set
and new rules and roles for a change in style.
I haven't seen the end of it yet.
And it's damning my confusion all the while.
Your own rules and roles are nothing at all.
You're on the move again and I wait for your fall.
When the silence is all too much—
searching for a sense of touch,
in the malice or candor of this and that.
Always always always a catch.
Will I seek council— hiding behind her dress,
or by being now one of the guys
now when life is such a mess
and affection is so horribly sly?
Hiding behind rules and roles and their bends—
excuses and uses of attempts to mend.
When started information:
residing on Milnor Ave. in Syracuse, NY
sometime from 1982 at earliest though more like 1984
into 1989
aged 15 into 22
Writings By Erick Heins 