curtal sonnet

NaPoWriMo Day 26: Sit Down, Shut Up

Sit Down, Shut Up


These voices are too loud, less in volume

than their incessant surety. They speak

with the perverse authority sanctioned

by a life I cannot comprehend. See,

their pain, no less valid, is much louder

than the less-told stories could hope to be.


Were they born to the pulpit? Do they know

through privilege-glasses what we cannot?

No one ever told them to sit down, shut up

and take notes. People listen when they speak, or shit,


but now’s not their turn.

This is an attempt at a curtal sonnet, but I was very lazy about the meter, so it is what it is. I don’t know how well this subject matter is going to come across, if at all, but I feel pretty strongly about people attempting to speak for minorities and had to say a thing today.