Rob S. Friedman
October 2023
The Noise and the Signal
She threaded string through two can bottoms and handed the Jolly Green Giant to me Chef Boyardee to my sister.
We paced apart enough for the string to tauten, enough to mumble nonsense, mishear secrets.
Clearing out her garage lifetimes later we found the cans, their icons faded yet confident in white toque and green leaf.
But the string had broken long ago, sending us off into time’s maelstrom and the constant roar of solitary silence.
Rob S. Friedman 