Look Me Up

I want to be found.
The small tinny soundscape
of daily life
replacing the boomboxes
and bell-ringers
of my urban imaginary,
whispering “find me, find me,
defraud me if you must
but find me” keep my number
always just the same in case,
in case, someone always wondered
where I went.
To here, to here, I went where
I never left, where loudness
is a virtue mislabeled as a vice,
Where I might still
find a hammer, I might yet
ring a bell.