Other Poems by:

Eddie Kilowatt

storyteller

the old woman told me about 
being in Dachau
and how she befriended
a young
	...how do I say it?
	Well, I suppose she was a 
	mentally handicapped 
	girl

	we were sitting outside one day
	against the wall
	of the building they put us in
	and I was staring at the fence.

	It was an electric fence
	and if you came within twenty feet of it
	they just shoot you down 
	where you stood

	I was staring at the fence, 
	really staring-
	thinking about it
	when she said 

			"Don't."

	It had been beaten out of me, 
	I wasn't even able to 
	lie to her

	I looked at her, 
	the words wheezed out of my mouth, 
	"But I want to."

			"Don't." 
	she said
	again

	I started to stand 
	but she grabbed my blouse
	by the shoulder
	and yanked me back down

	I fell on my bottom, hard
	angry with her
	and a headache for days

	"And why not!" 
	I shouted 

	I remember a couple guards	
	turned toward us
	and stared, 
	waiting
	
	the muscles in their jaws flexing
	gloved fingers steadied upon rifles

			"Because you'll never know 
			how the story ends."

an afternoon at the ballet

the man driving the car
was looking at the girl
standing at the bus stop
and didn't notice the woman
he drove over 

then the car turned around
to drive past the girl again
but she was in the road
helping the woman
lying on the pavement

the man scoured the bus stop
as he kept driving
staring back at the sheltered bench
leaving the scene of a missed opportunity
until hit by a dump truck

not every silence needs to be filled

after a few days
a friend asked
if I had written anything
and I said, 
No.

A week went
and she asked again.
I shrugged.

Still nothing.


A few weeks went by
and one day
she began explaining 
how this was unlike me 
I'd always written so much
and it was unhealthy 
to keep everything inside, she said
she was worried.
then looked at me 
waiting for an explanation

I looked at her
on the edge of her seat,  
the cusp of the climax, 
staring serious at my face and then

I started laughing

the two of us on a park bench.

Eventually,
the laughing stopped and
I looked at her again
then laughed all over 
again, while
taking her face in my hands
and kissing her right cheek

it was then that I realized
very few people
understand the joy
of having nothing to say.

transmission

on the way to breakfast
I ask my friend
why he never turns on the radio
when I'm in his car
and he responds, 

Because that's important.


and in the sun bright with morning we rarely see
neither of us says another word
until the waitress asks

Eddie Kilowatt Website

Copyright 2009, Eddie Kilowatt, All Rights Reserved

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