Prosthetic Realism
Among the amplified
the multiplied the
altered and abandoned we are
immediately unimpressed.
yawn promises another yawn
The telephone has a tone
I will call frightening.
People are real and people
know I know
that I do not do not do
without you.
Sincere the postmaster general.
There stopped flat still once
a single spoken-then orphaned
word.
Speck of brilliance bending
song-beautiful and mute
like a little yellow feather
inside the impossible flew and
fell through the crowded lonely
perhaps of Pennsylvania Station.
20,000 leagues under memory
the reverie of an ordinary
I will drink a glass of water.
