Silent Bell

I cannot feel here at all
No touch in this space
No sight sound
Or ability to taste remorse
...
When the roaring stops
Done God deafening
And the sine qua non silence
The after the moment
Moment
Of a crushing vacuum of pause
Pre denouement
The infinity felt in the silence
There
...
before fate arrives sure footed
Black boot stomp
And fortunes imprint
...
So deep this track
How many have laid it
...
And here is mine
It shows my drag and limp
Curving artfully in the mud
To be shown and traced by hands of the living curious being
That would care to escape palmistry
Cut out the hustler
the convict
the grifter
...
As they stoop to find the lines and ways
That history arch’s and would bend their bright future
...
It would be a tragedy
They think
Finger curled to unsmiling face
To flatly increase a pensive face
...
And so the hum and swoop
Of approaching infamy
This heady swirl
And no sound to its definitely draining source
And no horn to sound an end
No violent or shocking alarm
To herald what will happen
And stick
...
To yellowed pages filled with flowery stroke
Script that burns my name into useful algorithm
Or other words
More apropos