SOME THOUGHTS ON TRAVELING

(Part One)

I am convinced certain things need to be said,
or maybe they’ve been said already, or maybe they’re being said right now.
I am convinced many bodies are at work in the wires we cross to reach one another,
and with every click of the receiver
a blood vessel opens to let our voices through.

I am convinced the delicious red flesh
of the central wire (which holds our most important pulse) is really the long tongue of history’s deceased, which we must
borrow, just to say,

“I love you.”
or
“Fuck you.”
or
“I’ll be home late tonight.”

And when we plunge ourselves into the darkened places
to hear our voices flap as gulls or crows do
against a storm, we must feel strained
(in a sympathetic way) by the barriers
those wings now fight against.