Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I cannot hear
I hear the trolley rattling on the tracks
The woman on the phone cannot know
The torture of her words rolling into an unidentifiable
Sound
Apparently when you cannot identify the voice
You make too many commitments

Big strangeness I hear, phony on the phone, the voice of a robot, the memory of the sounds
of San Francisco.

creativesoul wrote: Apparently when you cannot identify the voice
You make too many commitments

We love predicaments -

everybody wants something
from me
they call from every state
and Nepal

sleeping on the floor
for 2 more days
moving
road trip best friend and two dogs
arms hurt
look to the future

Bon Voyage

Road was a refuge of
sweet solitude and anonymity
for me.

fine poem.

I wonder how
Mecury in retrograde can have me crazy
Over 40.00$
I have 2 days to wait
Until I can pay renters insurance
God I'm tired of hearing" just put it on your credit card"
Really?