January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I
Michael Internicola

TALK RADIO JIVE

the long gravel road meets
up with dirt and grass
telephone poles line this stretch
and nothing ever happens here.
headlights reflecting off hubcaps,
shooting light in your face.
the hours roll by and you digest
what she had to say and it makes no sense.
it never doesĖ no matter the woman.
the sky is beautiful though.
blue then orange then white,
finally blue again until the water replaces the trees
and itís something in the way she smiles,
laughs at my shitty jokesĖ her style.
i donít want the oceans without her.
i do not want the oceans without her.
i donít know, baby grinding my teeth at what we said.
savannah is silent.
talk radio jive.
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