E.T. Please call home!

words

having lost their meaning

cascade endlessly on

gathering momentum

like murky moss

oiling jagged stone

to slip

never to roll

to limp on

to no effect nor event

no clear paths are cut

the once fertile ground

now pounded into dull submission

a bungling stone

a rumbling drone

with no tone

‘beep’

E.T.

please call home