My connections are weak –
my phone’s hook up toothless
my car has a squeak
my laptop is useless
I watch my TV
watch humans, not real
can’t touch through the screen
I forget how to feel
I long for a hand
Forget the embrace
Too tired to stand
From the sun, shield my face
I’m supposed to provide
Words that cut our lives open
At the end of the day
I’m the one who is broken
I squint in the dusk
see the usher of light
perhaps this moon’s star
is our hope in the night
It’s probably nothing
A bypassing plane
But I’ll ride its fake wings
Lest my hope swirls down drain
Creative conjurings 