How sad that my life has not come to mean
for you what your life came to mean for me.
... How many times in vacant lots have I
consigned my copper coin, crowned with the seal
of state, to that webbed universe of wires,
attempting hopelessly to stretch the time
of our connectedness ... Alas, unless
a man can manage to eclipse the world,
he's left to twirl a gap‐toothed dial in some
phone booth, as one might spin a ouija board,
until a phantom answers,
echoing the last wails of a buzzer in the night.