That Blinking Feeling

When the push shoves,
home comes home to roost.
Silence is demanded,
commanded. Quiet is 
as quiet buzz. Phrases
tase the blistered ear.
Repeated accretion
accredits the ground
that sinks below the
feats. Fears dread the
mole's lost altitude, 
dug beyond the pale
blankness between 
the blackness that an
optimist might call 
stars.