Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Dematerialized (In Waiting)

Waiting for the telephone to ring.
Waiting to get wind of your whereabouts
from anybody.

I could pace through the area rug,
through the hardwood floor,
through the basement cement,
into the core of the earth.

I could be melted by the magma.
I could be dematerialized
into the atomic structures

in this waiting.

And I'd welcome it.

Anything is better than this.

Watching the steam rise
from a sixth cup of coffee.


Not knowing.

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