by Nomax Jodevaski
Dew of the morning breaks air & sun,
recalling ice. Forget all that now. Hello.
This is not a poem. Don’t draw attention.
A telephone number is encoded in the first
ten words of this text, each corresponding
by their length to each digit. The area code
is three two three. The &, of course, is zero.
Ignore the punctuation. Do not report in yet.
Wait for the signal. Of course, I provide can’t
you with a cue in person. We aren’t cyborgs.
But if you are willing to indulge us, you’ll
recognize the moment. It will “feel” right.
Until then, feign ignorance. Remember,
we cannot die. We have a world to win.
Nomax Jodevaski is a socialist. His first collection of poetry is due.