The Quiet World
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.
Notes
Where Naomi Shihab Nye’s Famous grounded significance in the quiet, dependable presence of ordinary things, Jeffrey McDaniel’s The Quiet World imagines a surreal state where speech is strictly rationed, transforming every syllable into an intentional, precious currency. The poignant conservation of daily vocabulary until the night falls and only a lover's name is whispered across the phone line exposes the empty noise of casual chatter, demonstrating that limitation elevates intimacy and makes silence itself the sacred vessel of true devotion. It enriches August’s theme of Feast through the beauty of radical restraint, reminding us that an abundance of affection is often tasted most deeply not in endless words, but in the single, measured phrase held close until the end of the day. #poetry #jeffreymcdaniel #feast #august #thequietworld
Jeffrey McDaniel, “The Quiet World” from The Forgiveness Parade. Copyright © 1998 by Jeffrey McDaniel.