More or Less

I’m convinced a body
doesn’t need a house
without a name. Perhaps
that’s what we mean
by silence. But that’s too facile.
If this is a joke it isn’t
going anywhere. Let me
pronounce your name,
and then we’ll see about
all the rest. Take a guess.
Mine you could fit
within the space of the breath
it takes to say. More or less.
You knew I was going there.
Which is not to say
you’re any less without a name,
or any more without.
It’s just that that’s the way
we go about these things.
What was your name again?

Published
Categorized as Poems

By Joshua Keiter

reader, writer, actor, singer, teacher