We sat at the back and
talked amongst ourselves
quietly, hard for me since
my voice carries,
while someone on stage
read written spoken word
and someone in the audience
laughed at all the sad parts
so loudly that soon everyone
joined in except us, caught
up in the rhythm of switching
from whisperer to listener
the bill of your hat whacking
my forehead each time
we traded lip for ear.
J. R. Carpenter
. . . . .