and so you dig.
inner-dialogue and all,
wading through your know-better, past worm and forgotten pipe to find an old telephone line lain so long ago that not so much a well-placed wink would connect.
your own roots forgetting the difference between themselves and this copper,
each breath entangled further,
your thirsty threatening toward accidental bridges,
the clockwise world finally trapping you and swearing to set you straight.
deep within you, set far across your sadness,
five words ring out in endless and unreal haunt
YOU WERE BORN A NUMBER