needle sweeps
the bandwidth bare,
seeking to flood
the radio's circuits
with a station's soul.
needle -- lissome, steely,
lonesome --
glides down the glass dial,
aches across the numbers
of these deserted frequencies,
tuning through the wilderness
of dry raspy static,
yearning,
feebly feeling
for a crackle of life
from the atmosphere:
a probe
night-hopping between
planets plumbed in
linear megahertz space,
scanning the heavens
for signs of love.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
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