Martin Galvin

He wanted always to live in the empty places

Between words, talked only so he could pause

And settle down in that easy chair of silence.

The bigger the novel, the more the houses

Where he could rest and work the puzzle.

And then he grew up and the world hurried down

The clueless street and into his house.

The internet jammed his time with addresses

That didn’t have houses, that didn’t have pauses,

Just hurry-up words that didn’t make sense

If you loved spelling, if you loved spaces.

He dot-commed and googled, he sighed for his loss

But sighing took time and sighing took space

That meant little and less as it wandered around

With nothing to do but continue the flow

Which threatened, that flow, to fill up the world

That used to be filled with comfortable places

Where a boy could hide and a man could go

To escape the babble that filled up the spaces,

To ponder in silence and empty the puzzles.