these are my letters
to myself.

Message to Readers

Drunk driving kills. There is always a safer way home.

15. euphoria

May 29, 2020



the telephones crucifix 
black prophets
sacred for the scraps of voice
they pass from you to me
hell is the waiting 
that little god snuck
behind cracked screen
to tell why you can’t
call back,
and answering -
a good bearer of bad news
the telephone -
the plastic and metal delivers
smooth and soothing
of the crash, the horrible injury
through a million wires, a million people roaring out
but one
the telephone is silent
refuses to say
the name.


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  • May 29, 2020 - 8:09am (Now Viewing)

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