Vox Teardrop

For Steve

Taken from the vault,
it gets warbled, deeper, slurred
when the batteries inside begin to rot
and seep. Recorded

on the west bank
of the Saint Croix River before I knew
what that meant, our conversation
was my monologue—became yours—then

it just stopped.

Lester

For Steve

There’s a voice missing
from this conversation.
The hollow buzz is breaking more
than my ear drums.

Loners Club

Each time I break
this silence to join
a conversation, I have to start 

at the beginning
again to learn
what I’ve missed since the last 

time I was human.