No longer among us.


Rotary dial telephones
Holed up in abandoned houses like shut-ins or fugitives.
Music captured on vinyl grooves or magnetic tape.
Saturday morning cartoons,
Victims of bloodless coups by round-tables of politicians.
Cameo brooches worn by ladies to be.

How I would love to explore the mysteries of UHF and VHF,
Ghosted forms defying static to entertain me,
The last throes of their death more fun than not.

These are creatures who leave no fossils
No trace that they were once with us
A part of us, like the dodo,
Digested and consumed;
Gone the way of the plays of Sophocles,
Or the cursive Q,
The identity of Prussia,
Whispers from history books
Riding on telegraph wires.

Poetry by Reilley
Read 866 times
Written on 2009-03-10 at 15:58

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Brian Oarr
"creatures who leave no fossils" ... I like this metaphor very much. A thoughtful, thought provoking piece, reilly. Good writing here.