“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”
You can get back home through the telephone wires. From city to suburb, follow the skinny black lines until your voice is my voice and our voice is here.
“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”
Pick up. Where do you live now? Do you like your job? Who are you with?
Every now and again, your machine is full. Too many voices trying to get in. They push and they shove, but they stand just to wait.
I know, you’ll call me when you can.
“Hey, you got me, but you didn’t really get me. Leave a message at the beep.”
Do power lines still map the way if only cell phones are used? Invisible pathways going in a million different directions scatter the world apart.
Misplaced conversations. Lost words looking for a sentence.
Face focused on the front of the phone.
“This number is no longer in service.”
Object Relations 
This is amazing! I loved reading it!
Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
This was really well done. Easy to read and it leads us right through in a heartbeat. Nicely done.
A clever idea, and such a touching execution; distance and longing and loss made manifest. Well done.
Yes. I know. Been exactly there. Beautifully expressed.
Pingback: The Answering Machine | Niki Bayard
ha ha 🙂 great!
Nx
This is crisp (the only adjective I could think of at the moment xD)
“Misplaced conversations. Lost words looking for a sentence.”
What a brilliant line!
Loved this entire piece and how it plays out.
I’ve always enjoyed reading your blog – it’s been a long time and just late last night I was trying to remember the name …. and today, after a “like” by you, well, here I am; curious how things sometimes work out.
Cheers!
I just lost my mother in law and we don’t have many pictures of her but what I did have is all her messages I never deleted off the answering machine. This post is beautifully written and makes me think of her fondly.
Well done.