Greenpoint, October, 2015

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Wireless

Roosevelt Ave. (June 2011)
Postscriptum

How sad that my life has not come to mean
for you what your life came to mean for me.
. . . How many times in vacant lots have I
consigned my copper coin, crowned with the seal
of state, to that webbed universe of wires,
attempting hopelessly to stretch the time
of our connectedness . . . Alas, unless
a man can manage to eclipse the world,
he's left to twirl a gap-toothed dial in some
phone booth, as one might spin a ouija board,
until a phantom answers, echoing
the last wails of a buzzer in the night.

Joseph Brodsky (September 1967)

1 comment:

  1. Yes, I wonder how much poetry one could extract from tapping on a smartphone. A challenge for your students, perhaps!

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