In an effort to get people to look



into each other’s eyes more,



and also to appease the mutes,



the government has decided



to allot each person exactly one hundred



and sixty-seven words, per day.







When the phone rings, I put it to my ear



without saying hello. In the restaurant



I point at chicken noodle soup.



I am adjusting well to the new way.







Late at night, I call my long distance lover,



proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.



I saved the rest for you.







When she doesn’t respond,



I know she’s used up all her words,



so I slowly whisper I love you



thirty-two and a third times.



After that, we just sit on the line



and listen to each other breathe.





