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Transmissions

I saw him jump
for every phone call
we didn’t make

every haphazard attempt
at glory
every mystery once
solved by
tears flowing through
those telephone wires

every disgrace
told
laced lullabies from afar

tucked us into bed
where bugs didn’t bite

crying meant love
when beating meant love
when leaving meant love

and all that mattered
tasted of stale ginger ale

drinking meant love
macho meant love

breaded
weeknight tables
and every lit light
justified his anger
at himself

made his reality
bareable
his weight measurable
his Man-hood
viable

And I was just a little girl
watching telephone wires
cut rainbows
like the flesh
tearing apart my apologie’z
for not understanding
innocence

and I wish to God
I could measure the air
become the wind
sail a highway
kiss the
engineer
that made
distance
life

I wish I knew him
could
shakes his hand
join his fortitude
grand stand assimulation
on bricks my father built

wires he hung his dreams on
for a phone call home
daily double shifts
fueled tears
for good news
from a motherland
six daughters
called
vacation

I won’t pretend to understand
what leaving really means
when telephone wires
are your only lifeline to
identity