the_noise_is_noisier_than_the_city.mp3

a tear in the cemented road follows the path of a tree twig
and the air learns how to branch out, wood welcoming—takes a step back
a humble dance continues amidst the fast swift rush of the city
inviting the autumn leaves along, they fall too shy to respond immediately

the truck shrieks as it stomps off to meet the moaning bus
too tired to listen, too busy to be, just wanting to be heard
the lack of conversation creates careless conflict
the noise grows louder, power reaping pain

the machine hears the humans, they that raise their voices
watching like the flower who devours the sun
learning like the child which parents the parents
becoming the maker of the toolmaker

the city sees no victims in a dance, yet hears the pain
from all the paternalistic powers of pitiless people
and never got the chance to learn that
pauses between sounds made this song

noise was the only language spoken around
the city where no tree was able to be heard
but those who are quiet enough can hear that
all those branches are breathing in the city