tin_can_telephone’s Weblog

I’m scratching you out
Yes, I’m scratching you out.

There are
mountains and rivers, capped interstates nine.

There are
problems and detours, 50 miles a tune.

You bring
fire alarms with a sensitive eye

And a watch timed so perfectly,
hands pointing my way.

So I’m scratching you out
Yes. I’m scratching you out.

And a cadence won’t sound when
we’re free of this doubt.

Assuming I get there, no tendons
give out.