noticing that the wind
so elegantly whisps by,
the sol is graced,
as the radii come full circle.

we are static, you and i.
we are storms of interference,
an earthshattering bond that will
cloud the moments from here
to new york.

blank space, one could argue.
antennae of solitude thrust so violently upon a sky,
transmitting messages in secret code
that, all at once, in but a moment
we can decode, and stare blankly
in misunderstanding.

perhaps a windblown vessel intercepted these cries,
propelled toward the heavens with a destination of god-
meanwhile, a sinner's mouth has fallen in our path,
only to misinterperet the tail end of a conversation
and then relay it to it's true target.

these static storms are unpredictable-
are we victims of a twist of unfortunate fate,
or are you the benefactor of this seamless excuse?
perhaps we shall never comprehend;
or perhaps the signal was forever lost in the wake of static.

01/07/2004

Author's Note: still wrestling with this one; i dont feel the last stanza does the piece justice; but i dont know. thoughts?

Posted on 01/08/2004
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