Telephone Poles
7-9-98
the telephone poles are my confidante
certainly not the phone
these wires break the sky
the house the forest
so easy
like I you – we - break me
I am fragile tonight
And tomorrow too
Forever I might say
I am hollow
Again I am echo
As I bang my head against the wall endlessly
A machine gun is slower
My brain is swampy horrible stench
I'd rather be under a bridge
A troll of sorts
Get the toll sit on the bench
Beg for a dime
Safe away tuck away
Save up to buy myself
I feel trapped in a box
But it's not the box they can't see
These poles come crashing
This is my bender
Thursday, February 5, 2009
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