Scott Sherman Poems, Day 2: “Dial Tones”

Crawling through deserts at night, searching for buried dial tones to call outposts with beds of omen imbued trees. This feels enough like home, pills pull teeth down my throat to bite on the heatwaves in my bones. It’s medicinal in the softest way, enough to forget allegiances with disorders. *this is the secondĀ in a five-day series of poems The Opiate is publishing by Scott … Continue reading Scott Sherman Poems, Day 2: “Dial Tones”