Refuse to hear the stampeding silence,
the rush of hooves inside your head

an advancing cavalry in your ear,
buffaloes rumbling across the flat ground

of the elastic prairie of your timpani.
It will pass. You will survive the horns

and fade into obscurity once more.
You will sit down, the words you stammered

like a bad hammer will not be recorded.
The beasts will go about their grazing.

Your classmates’ lives will fast forward
even though your life has stopped.


© by Jeff Burt.
Used with the author’s permission.