shadow of klink

plastic phone

phonebone

never tip-a-tap tangents and tablets

spin like the cycle of seasons

I never wanted to share my every thought

(you didn't either, I bet?)

in a Hogan's Heroes hopechest

pressing my nose

against the glass of the past

and now we tip-a-tap talk

and watch it all

pass away

like a cycle of seasons

that never existed

at all