Parity №13: Beyond Radio Reception

Somehow we’ll break free.

If only each wooden rattle of
your coffin coming down the road
could mean as much as the electric
clicks you used to send along

the humming wires of your radio
like a static scream from where
you sat in the damp basement:
I would follow you to the grave.

Like this? You can read my poem, “Tell Me What You Want to See,” at the link below.

Tell Me What You Want to See