there are laws of thermodynamics
I have invariably broken.
he turned on the light. he invented
the first phone.
he turned on the flicker of what.
for the rest of his life, silence bound him as golden.
I pull leaves off your knees.
will we ever go back to that sandpaper church,
you asked, when your camera caught up
in its digital senses.
I am holding a phone book.
I am holding a phone.
from my office a view
that looks only indoors. I pull & I pull
but the blinds will not close.
you are the architect
of my unmaking, she signs.
so kiss me, he calls,
tens of miles from home.
I have invariably broken.
he turned on the light. he invented
the first phone.
he turned on the flicker of what.
for the rest of his life, silence bound him as golden.
I pull leaves off your knees.
will we ever go back to that sandpaper church,
you asked, when your camera caught up
in its digital senses.
I am holding a phone book.
I am holding a phone.
from my office a view
that looks only indoors. I pull & I pull
but the blinds will not close.
you are the architect
of my unmaking, she signs.
so kiss me, he calls,
tens of miles from home.
your semiphore of longing, so present
I like that, rob. Looking forward to reading the others as they pop up.
- Vicki
..from my office a view
that looks only indoors.
i'm back in my claustrophobic cubicle - you must know it to describe it so(?). yep..it tugged at me as you pulled on the blinds.
Very interesting, esp. as I'm writing Edison poems...and Edison and Bell duelled a bit.
I appreciate your touch with the historical/personal registers.