Fear of Word Blindness

Banks of blank ivorine
stacked high but
thinly like old oriental
lacquered tsuba ..
Each scream both loud
and high enough
to shatter those fragile
hand blown
champagne flutes you
long treasured ..
Whereas, somewhere
else completely,
rows of old scribes sit
cross legged
in their temples calmly
contemplating
white noise but fearing
word blindness
tho still craving obscurity ..