look up to the sky and phone me … don’t leave home without photographing it … never wake up when the stars are text messaging … just hang up when the delay starts messing with your head … all your italian credit is dead … gone to the great numeral zero in the magnetic strip sky … trying to reach that number only lovers call … jamming the sunset’s network … some giant oak split in a diagram … radiating waves of coverage & false debris … stay connected for me … don’t cry out unless the chorus calls for your participation … my straight-edged blossom arrow of hopes that tingle … showering the room with keystrokes from a slowly-revolving death star sculpture … or bogus html … dead links to a long-extinguished star … no hope now for the wholly-darkened skies … a band of eight string numerals teleports dawn … the sleeping airliner tracking russian airspace … a dragonfly on a rollercoaster … picture this when the batteries are dead … all the ipods have gone out … i will phone the eastern sky to you … only eight hours ahead … eight hours behind … in your sleep.
