I yank the antennae to the left
Bursting through the static
I see Dick Goddard pointing to dark rain clouds
But I hear crackling, then Spanish
"Mi amor, yo quiero estar contigo."
Ridiculous double realities
Am I done or not?
Your mixed signals
Yield my indecision
Shall I tinker with these fickle antennae?
My patience isn't very stable
And this connection is proving shifty, too
Can't you see that I'm standing here
Desperately seeking clarity
Perhaps this station will never come in
And the next station over is clear.
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