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Telephone Pole Blues pt. II: Life's Sad Story
Folder:
Early Writings Telephone pole trail hides
Stands in straight lines
To hide their numbers
To hide behind their shame
A secret puddle of despair
He stands between
The telephone pole lines of time
Telephone pole, he’s so humble
He grew so tall so fast so he’ll never fall
Never plunge to his golden death
He’ll never bite into the dust of the trail
He is his own, stands alone
Yet his pride is so unknown
Telephone pole points through the night
He’s lonely as a cold without a coat
But never shall a tear sprout wings
And glide up to the glades of clouds above
Never shall it kiss the moon upon his polished lips
A clever little scheme to fool a tiny little eye
Telephone pole you never had a goal
A fence to crack a ball over
A hill to gently crawl over
Your days are numbered
Like the face upon your watch
Like a saltshaker rhythm blue
Like a sloppy meal on a cozy afternoon
Telephone pole
Just an olive branch
Between the white dove’s beak
A lighthouse to a determined sailor ship
Just a sign of life
That your life is still alive
To every wayfarer
Puttering down his dark and vacant road
His humble pavement plate
Telephone pole in a human’s hole
You’re just a misfit to the trees
So telephone pole be deep
Telephone pole, in a human’s hole
Be deep…
