Or how communication changes. Or how I avoid my dissertation .
From ten days to ten hours, telegraphs flow under the ocean
Context and consonants cross on copper lines through cables
While the moon pushes waves of water over hemp tied wires
From Valentia to my Heart’s Content, I send
Vowels and vows, letters and love, dots and dashes
I swim the one thousand eight hundred and fifty nautical miles
From ships to sent, messages flood the marine like magic
A triumph more glorious* we grow closer to each other
I learn to move my mouth to form circles and lines
From relayed to response, on the other side of the deep
You tap your fingers on electricity till the last letter is over
While the I wait, the world is getting smaller
*“It is a triumph more glorious, because far more useful to mankind, than was ever won by conqueror on the field of battle. May the Atlantic telegraph, under the blessing of Heaven, prove to be a bond of perpetual peace and friendship between the kindred nations, and an instrument destined by Divine Providence to diffuse religion, civilization, liberty, and law throughout the world”- James Buchanan, August 16, 1858.