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Tell The Children: No Talking at the Dinner Table

Vanessa Leung

Tell the children no talking at the dinner table

Ivory chopsticks striked down to sever unfinished

Articulations, into pieces of broken syllables.

All not knowing what malice they had inflicted,

Hurried with their sustenance and scattered

Behind walls.  Try to make amends

In uncertain ways. Promise

No talking back, nor back-talking.

Like the cultivation of a pearl, a rambunctious

Trio became stoic faces, with

No queries, no expositions, just subsisted.


Quiet and demure, as we became

Until we probed into the world of pubescence.

As her magical recklessness slowly came to light,

Step by step and one by one on our own chance,

We detach from our ventriloquist’s hands.

And came to learn one thing—

Disguise one’s own ignorance by force-fed muteness;

No voice, no counter-statements, just one muted silence.

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