shutting up


January 2014


“When the music’s over

Turn out the lights…”

-          The Doors


after the intensity of the (always partial) end

after anxiety, akin to emptiness

after frustration, after fear

after doubt and hungry, hungry nothingness

comes a sense of stupor

close to awareness


words are no longer dirty, or smart, or troublesome

(uncomfortable) sexual allusions turn irrelevant

incorrectness disappears

thoughts just flow in comfortable solitude

and echo in the walls of this, my room

shelter of my loneliness (this, anarchic province)

with a kindness/understanding unknown to the ambitious


after youthful hollers (elaborate ventriloquists’ echoes)

after teenage ad-hoc-ness and naivety

after my own, lost attempts to be smart (posing as a kid, myself)

after ephemeral beliefs and the vane hope of transcendence

comes this: observance


the acknowledgment of truth, pure silence

a compassionate realization of my overwhelming vacuity

and the sense of comfort, the idea of home

fed by four simple walls – small studio

atop a hard working man’s appliance store (steep, Dutch stairs and all)

in a small town, somewhere amid timelessness



Jorge Mejia Hernandez