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Jeffrey McDaniel, “The Quiet World”

From Jeffrey McDaniel's book The Forgiveness Parade. (Manic D, 1998)

The Quiet World

by Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look into each other’s eyes more, and also to appease the mutes, the government has decided to allot each person exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear without saying hello. In the restaurant I point at chicken noodle soup. I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover, proudly say I only used fifty-nine today. I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond, I know she’s used up all her words, so I slowly whisper I love you thirty-two and a third times. After that, we just sit on the line and listen to each other breathe.

THE WORLD IS GONE, I MUST CARRY YOU

Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass Richard Siken, ‘You are Jeff’ bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions Angelica Alzona, Creophagy Mary Oliver, ‘West Wind’ Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night Jeffrey McDaniel, ‘Archipelago of Kisses’ Graham Dean, Couple Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping Paul Celan, ‘Vast, glowing vault’

"I've been ignored by prettier women than you, but none who carried the heavy pitchers of silence so far, without spilling a drop." Jeffrey McDaniel

I've had the wind knocked out of me, but never the hurricane.

—Jeffrey McDaniel

The Quiet World - Jeffrey McDaniel - USA

In an effort to get people to look

into each other’s eyes more,

and also to appease the mutes,

the government has decided

to allot each person exactly one hundred   

and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear   

without saying hello. In the restaurant   

I point at chicken noodle soup.

I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,   

proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.   

I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,

I know she’s used up all her words,   

so I slowly whisper I love you

thirty-two and a third times.

After that, we just sit on the line   

and listen to each other breathe.

The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel

The Jesus Fridge

Jeffrey McDaniel

Your fridge died last week. The light still came on when you opened the door, like a doll sticking out her yellow tongue, but the jar of pickle spears, the oat milk in its blue cardboard house, the yogurt were warm as an average day in Santa Monica. A couple hundred dollars of provisions down the figurative drain. A new fridge, a vertical morgue with shelves, was ordered and set to be delivered from the truck’s womb, when wait—the dead fridge came back to life. The Jesus Fridge. The dead food healthy again. This phrase was funny to you last week. The collision of the mundane and mechanical with the long-haired and sanctimonious. But it’s not funny today. The world has changed. This is a George Floyd moment for both Israelis and Palestinians. Actually scratch that. It’s a George Floyd moment for both Americans who sympathize with Israel and Americans who sympathize with Palestinians. It’s a holy fuck moment for anyone who cares about human life. Upstairs the bathtub is filling with blood. How big would the swimming pool have to be to hold all the red salty stuff spilled the last week? Who will recline in the fresh blood bath? What swimmers will adjust their goggles and freestyle the miles of blood?

» the quiet world, jeffrey mcdaniel

"Late at night, I call my long distance lover,

proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.

I saved the rest for you."

this gotta be the most beautiful poem I've ever read in my life 🤧

I remember wishing I could be boiled like water and made pure again.

Jeffrey McDaniel

There's something incredibly honest about trees in winter , how they're experts at letting things go .

-Jeffrey McDaniel