![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bardiphoukaOn the corner, not nearly as high
as the church spires that spike
through the neighbourhood
is a telephone pole, erected
long before its counterparts,
wood covered with tacks and nails,
decades of pre-internet communication.
Have you seen, do you want,
you want to see.
These days it is alone,
unadorned. It is wrong.
I leave a note of my own,
even though the sky says
it will be rained off but
still for a moment the
sheet flutters on the splinters
"read this"
as the church spires that spike
through the neighbourhood
is a telephone pole, erected
long before its counterparts,
wood covered with tacks and nails,
decades of pre-internet communication.
Have you seen, do you want,
you want to see.
These days it is alone,
unadorned. It is wrong.
I leave a note of my own,
even though the sky says
it will be rained off but
still for a moment the
sheet flutters on the splinters
"read this"
