We speak in tongues barbarous and respectful
With tones polite and resentful.
This unabashed way of speaking,
Is rough around the edges...
Like a wooden floor creaking.
Two people are talking by a steamy window pane
Their conversation lofting and lilting with their vocal refrains
Not truly giving each other their fullest attention
Never truly remembering the names that were mentioned
Civil citizens live their lives in private spaces
Only thinking about their own faces
Rushing down private lanes in non-public sleds
These are The Folks Who Live in Their Heads