Telephone Surroundings

Chatter is like a little bird looking in every direction

hopping rather than flying, hoping for crumbs

eavesdropping for a meal and leaving when it's 
too obvious that you're being watched, and my eyes
want to be just the same, with the same out on wings

offered to the wind for a picking up, improper gerunds
leading to the disappearance of everyone I knew,

as I go where I haven't been, to be seen and not seen

an anachronism talking about technology and wondering
about the idiomatic life we made out of words and the
metaphors about meaning and certainty and complaining

in the middle of the week, there was another cliché 
sprayed out audibly as the life of each mind comes out of 
the sun and into the shade and starts a fire to keep warm

on one of the hottest days of the year.

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