Notes From The Overground

It’s going down
I can feel the subtle loss of lift
Weight weighing on the shoulders
Spiral sent out in reverse

And I’m still out here on-the-line
A phone call away made faraway
Testing the efficacy of century-old copper wire
Trusting the miles to not kill off the line

Inside out, my guts hang out there on-the-line
The oh-honey-so tragic nature of a twice divorced mother
Played in the repetition of telephone numbers & time
That used to play a song sing-a-long for everyone

Wrap the telephone wire in aluminum
Insulation for the indecision, once divorced son
Couple quick breaths then must exhale into the pickup
As I fail in time with the ringing

It’s going down
So far you can’t even fight it off
Disappearing into the crackling voice
It’s tear-talk, extra-quiet scratch

There are better vehicles to carry on from here with
With fewer imperfections, less-for-more, how-may-I directions
Suck that voice across time zones tracking the changes
GMT leaving this strangeness in me to press on

It’s going down, so why stay on the line
Knowing from some time ago where this will terminate
© Adam Bresson