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Telephone Pole Blues pt. IV: By The Way
Folder:
Early Writings Like a game of catch
We exchange words
Back and forth
You’ve melted to mere voice
A voice that travels on
Through a trail of telephone poles
Two thousand miles long
One measly inch wide
Traveling on and on and on…
Over the hills over the heads
That turn up to the stars
That turn up to the thoughts
Of whom they love the most
As I turn up to you
Turn up like turnips
Out of nowhere
Out of somewhere
That seemed to be no way out and no way in
But someway is the way to travel
Telephone pole trail, carry her voice
From land to land
From the amber waves
In the shining seas
That sit and watch sunsets to me
Come soon, my love, or time awaits
In a picnic built for two
We reside in a mere phone call
From wire to our ears
We play catch with words
With needless notions
With I love you’s
We venture for a hit
Of the happy little hour
But all we reach is the hour
A blank and sour hour
Incompletion
Inconvenience
Telephone pole in the hole
Carry her fragile voice
Do not drop it on the way
By the way, by the sea
By the way is no way.
