Connections (standard:poetry, 382 words)
Author: Finn McKool	Added: Mar 20 2003	Views/Reads: 3499/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Exactly what the title says.

All connections need a medium. 

You and I we're just one's and zeroes zooming 

Through the air, through wire and cable 

Through walls and doors and windows and basements 

Is it so much to ask for you to hear me? 

Is it so much to as for me to listen? 

A man in Alberquerque drops a dime. 

He bends to pick it up and is hit by a 

Fast moving truck. 

His mother back in Stockholm hears the 

Tolling of the bell bounced from two satelites and into her phone. 

A connection is severed. 

A woman sits on a park bench. 

She feeds the pigeons and watches the cars go by. 

One man stops and asks her directions. 

They marry three years later. 

A connection is made. 

A fourteen year old boy is in front of his computer. 

He tells someone he is a twenty-eight year old lesbian 

From Desmoine. 

The person he's talking to says they're a college grad 

From Mobile, and my ain't it hard to find somone to connect 

With down in the deep deep south? 

The joke's on both of them, as they both play on the same 

Basketball team. 

A woman in New York places a restraining order on a man 

Who sits in his apartment masturbating to Baywatch in Decatur. 

She's the only person he talks to, and doesn't mind if it's 

99 cents for the first minute, and $1.99 each additional minute. 

The cops find him with his head in the oven the next day. 

One's zeroes wires satellites neurons vocal cords hammers anvils 

Energy moving from point A to point B, the simplest and most basic 

Physical process. 

They move complicated emotions through simple motions 

Something vibrates, pushing air in front of it. 

We manipulate it everyday and give it a pattern. 

It's reflexive for most of us. 

We call it speaking. 

Chemicals gather in the tiniest places. 

An electric impulse moves through, they move in kind. 

We don't even think about it. 

We call it moving. 

I punch a few buttons a few thought processes happen 

In a collection of plastic and metal and it gets beamed 

All over the world. 

And by doing this simple act I recreate what 

Scientists and philosophers have spent ages trying to 

Discover or prove. 

My soul. 


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