Thursday, June 19, 2008

...one of one...

how many times

have we written about phone calls

or lines that didn't connect


like the ones in this poem

or the ones in the conversations

I have with myself


that are recorded 

on my friend's machines

This is the vacancy


that is lurking

when you don't want it to

this is the consumption


of thought 

the rumble of the stomach

when one's solitude


becomes their worst allergen


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