They Call Us Loud: Poems
by William Beale
Maybe this is all we have for now.
So lay your bricks. Cement them
With your tongued voices
Noises that we so wish to
Build our world around.
In the meantime, you are loud.
"The world of ‘rowdy gods’ into which William elegantly erupts is a bullring with no toreadors – just two huffing bulls and an audience tossing endless roses into the fight. Both bulls win. The roses don’t go unnoticed."
- Bill Moran, American spoken word artist and slam champion