by Bruce Maples
I do not need the endless noise
of so-called modern life
Which strikes me, with its constant cacophony
and assault upon the senses
as neither “modern” nor “life.”
I am convinced
one significant feature of hell
will be noise:
The noise of activity, both thoughtless and self-important;
The noise of striving,
The noise of anger, and of irritation
At anyone and anything
that dares to interrupt my single-minded pursuit
of more noise.
We have always had such noise.
There is nothing “modern” about it.
The sounds of Rome in Caesar’s time
would be just as cacophonous and rude.
No, the only “modern” attribute of this noise
Is our ability to make so much of it
And our desire for more and more of it.
I reject, then, being modern
And wish to plant my being
Firmly in silence.