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.