A dim conversation

We have nothing but time
As I sit in the airport
Of the greatest city in the world

And you – I thought you sympathetic
But you are laughing at me
And telling me to write of things
I know nothing about

Are we talking about energy or rhythm?
Instead you send a friend
Who tells me to look it up

All is lost in translation
But when I get home I’ll turn a light on in your honor
40 watts, not much of a glow there.


See Chris’ 40 Watt poem here.



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