Lessons From The Cried

Plain Jane, with electric streaked eyes,
glances at the phone, begging,
pleading,
in her simplistic way, to be saved.
The boy resists. The man resists. The In-between wavers, then bites the bullet.
He has his own language of sweat,
and bottled moonshine.
And Jane waits, ever so patiently, pathetically, passionately,
clutching that phone every night, so that he can find her.
A lifeline between the living and the dead.

Patrick McFarland
I think at one time or another we have all been in Jane's shoes. Great poem.

wojja fink
great imagery on the cellnet lines.