The Silence of the Nutcracker: Trump Transition, December 2016 maggie rosen 36 There is no noise that isn’t musical notes. That is why I hate ballet — false talk, laughter, tears. Meanwhile, horns and violins drown us. Couples whisper at the party, mime a laugh. A boy wakes grandpa with a bugle blurt that only grandpa hears. A guest calls out the mother’s name, but wait-- they don’t call, they wave/flap hands at her- so rude to flap at someone, silly awkward gesture, like a baby bird. Like mocking someone disabled. Truths are known to flap unwillingly from awkward liars.