WRD

I woke up one day...

“Ancient Storyteller” by Amrita Sher-Gil, 1940

I did not notice at first, but 
suddenly there were no more
poets, novelists, or playwrights. 

I looked for Cervantes at
his preferred bench
and nothing. 
I looked for Rilke
at the zoo
but there was only his tiger.
I found Shakespeare at the public library
frantically reading books on 
how to manage debt. 

I made a vow of silence
to allow it
to come to me. 
There was a Sound and a Fury
but no God to sculpt them.

I confirmed its death one night
when I noticed a stock named “WRD.”
One Corporation owned them all:
Plato, Borges, Twain, Tolstoy, everybody. 

I gathered my friends and family
and told them the story. All of it.