seep through me

I cannot be profound

I can only be myself

I can only offer to a friend

What is in my heart to give

But what is there to offer

Depends on whose audience

I’ve been proffered

And then, either by willful choice

Or passive negligence allowed

To seep through me

The radio in my car

An ungoverned voice blaring

Silly words and sensual sonnet

Foolish banter and a deejay’s foul words

“Let’s get unconscious” Madonna purrs…

I laugh, tossing out a verb

Here or there that I know

Should I be merry for learning

Word and melody feeding

Into me

I shut it off and walk

Through a friend’s door

We joke about making out

Probably both entertaining

The thought