Best Telegraph Poems

My bike was transportation; Mom didn’t drive
But sometimes I sped off on an adventure
To Telegraph Hill the miles were only five
Big sis and I made the ride a joint venture

What she didn’t know was the trek was uphill
Although one could coast nearly all the way...

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Telegraph poles
Derelict each in their own way
Watch the Forest creep around
Mountains watch them rot
Trains skitter past
The River pays no mind
Dragging their wires on the Ground
Useless
Many miss glass eyes
Many hang their arms
Some have fallen
None talk
No more dots and dashes...

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The Telegraph

How does it feel; it must be unreal
For a Chaplin to knock on your door
Then to place in your hand a short telegram
That says that your loved one’s no more
Then for how many days are you lost in the haze
Rereading those short little lines
How...

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this is where my tale wings away
past the clutches of the irascible Chadwick
up past the hinges and the curly cue
and its vocabulary roofing tiles
preparing to adapt once again
placing the bellows against the embers
possessed by a holy fervor
that could lay waste to nations
in an orgy of...

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The man was
handsome, intelligent,
and good in bed.

But he just
had nothing
to say.

And all of his days
were the same.

Monochromatic
introspection followed
by a sort of smothered
self-expression.

He never
felt like himself.
And he always felt
worried about what
other people thought
about him.

Who even was
he?

His routine?
His career?
His interests?
His beliefs?

Beliefs?

The man had
no beliefs, the
man didn’t need
to...

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