drips on a telephone wire.

Who

uses a land line

anymore?

The sun came down ,

blue eyes turned brown.

Staring

at a crumbling

shore.

And all I have here

Is last years beer.

‘S all they had

At the

Store .

 Hookers  start  phoning,

wide eyed and fake moaning.

i have no time

for a

whore.

I ignore their beguiling,

my fingers start dialing

to hear you again

and no

more.