Without the Words: A poem

Elina Blazhiyevska/Staff

A stranger thing occurred early yesterday morning

IT was a literal event,


There were a hundred squirrels around–

Class-bound,The student body

had already drunk

3,127 coffees and bobas.

The campanile had chimed nine times at 9


SO otherwise things were fine,

But then something went terribly wrong–––


 Running fast

I got to class,

there was

tape covering the doors and walls


I read

what the yellow plastic said

Whiteout covered the bathroom stalls

The pages in Moffitt had gone blank

The flyers in Sproul had lost their ink


I picked up a newspaper.

I read the headlines

As the words faded before my eyes—

I turned and no where did I find

Another person in sight


Instead there were currently

3,127 piles of books,

essays, poems, words, and volumes

on the ground

They blew this way and that

quickly losing their print

And their binding

And their meaning


As nothing could be read,


of themselves could be written


for others could be written

For without the words

There was nothing to be heard


And in this silence–

I went to that Corner Cafe

To see that the words Free Speech had been Erased

from the stone that had been their home

for without YOU,

nothing could be known


I, too, faded away—

and papers



    by one

And what was done

    was done

Until at last,

                I was a bind-less book

and a feather—CENSORED—

was their only bound

 and tether.


But in this silence,

Someone spoke

And in happiness

I awoke

At exactly 9

to the lines of your books

and mine


Contact Kristen Hull at [email protected]

Tags No tags yet