are the string between the cans
moving us into each other
We keep our hands in our pockets
and reach instead with words
and the art of letter writing is revived
and the world's heart craves story.
Art. Strangers to drama put on plays
on rooftops and backyard decks
and dance is homeschooled.
The artists we have drowned
surface their fearless voices
and release truth in primal waves
the way no politician ever could.
Numbers. Numbers that curve and bend
that ease or panic our minds,
numbers that divine our fears
and host the world's response:
these numbers, these charts
cut through the static and noise
and display the colors of our grief.
Author Bio:
Mo Lynn Stoycoff is a writer and visual artist whose poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Poetry Now, The Tule Review, The American Journal of Poetry, Harvest International Quaranzine, Speckled Trout Review and the anthologies Di-Verse-City and 100 Poems. Mo works in the performing arts and lives in Central California.