20 Oct 2016 – Sonnet

A leaky faucet, listened to all night,
can wash away serenity like sand.
This constant conversations’ bile and bite
cuts canyons through the thoughts where sane men stand.
Each word bears weight, though each word’s weight is nil.
A cloud that coalesces into stone –
an avalanche of outrage that can kill,
yet not a one alone could break a bone.
The heart groans heavily beneath the load
in contemplation of the coming choice,
while surrogates surround us as they goad
those left of us repelled by every voice.
Too much it is, I know, for us to hope
in three weeks both would disappear like smoke.