Six dollars in change
to make a call
from a phone booth
on the outskirts of nowhere.
The wind whistles
so loud
through bullet holes
in the thin metal frame
that I can barely
hear the phone ring
across the lines.
She answers in a rough,
sleepy voice.
I think about her
smoking cigarettes
to hide the whiskey
on her breath
and singing
Janis Joplin songs
at the top of her lungs
until her throat
is raw.
There is a long silence
and I know I’m wasting money
to take part in
her quiet.
She speaks my name
into the mouthpiece
as if it is a swear word,
ashamedly soft.
“I’m out of change,”
I tell her
and the bitter wind
causes my eyes to tear.
“Are you cold?”
she asks.
“Not now.”
I reply.
Then the phone swallows hard
the change rattles down
its metal throat;
followed by a loud click
and the line is dead.
I hold the receiver
tight to my face
as if I might still
hear her voice.
The wind whistles
through the holes
so loud
I can’t hear myself
say
goodbye.
to make a call
from a phone booth
on the outskirts of nowhere.
The wind whistles
so loud
through bullet holes
in the thin metal frame
that I can barely
hear the phone ring
across the lines.
She answers in a rough,
sleepy voice.
I think about her
smoking cigarettes
to hide the whiskey
on her breath
and singing
Janis Joplin songs
at the top of her lungs
until her throat
is raw.
There is a long silence
and I know I’m wasting money
to take part in
her quiet.
She speaks my name
into the mouthpiece
as if it is a swear word,
ashamedly soft.
“I’m out of change,”
I tell her
and the bitter wind
causes my eyes to tear.
“Are you cold?”
she asks.
“Not now.”
I reply.
Then the phone swallows hard
the change rattles down
its metal throat;
followed by a loud click
and the line is dead.
I hold the receiver
tight to my face
as if I might still
hear her voice.
The wind whistles
through the holes
so loud
I can’t hear myself
say
goodbye.
Author notes
I was listening to Melissa Etheridges song where she sings: "Hello, Hello, this is Romeo, calling from a jackpot telephone..." This came to me while I was driving into work.
I found the picture on Yahoo images, but couldn't figure out who it belonged to. I'll keep checking and make sure I give proper credit.
Comments
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First, I love love love Melissa's work. I've seen her a handful of times, and every time I do I think WOW! She cannot top this show! NO WAY. I know that song, sang it so many times when it first came out. Somewhere along the way it started to matter to me that she was gay though, and I dont know why. Wasnt like she was after me. My favorite song by her ever is "sleep while I drive" but there are so many more. Brave and Crazy was an amazing album.
Funny, when I was reading this I thought of that Todd Rundgren song, "Hello, it's me...I've thought us for a long long while, maybe I think too much, but something's wrong...there's something here doesn't last too long, maybe I shouldn't think of you as much..."
Dang, pretty good for not hearing it for several years now.
This poem is EXCELLENT. The phone swallowing hard-loved that.
jin

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Funny that you mention "Hello its Me" by Rundgren, when I was writing it I thought of that song. The Etheridge song is "No Souvenirs"... I love the Brave and Crazy album. The Thing with ME was that she stopped rocking her songs and started singing ballads and they all sound the same to me. I loved her for her energy and raw emotion. I saw her in CT just as she was "coming out" -- me, my wife at the time and about 35,000 lesbians... very interesting.... saw enough women kissing women to last me a lifetime. Thanks for the comments.
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This is insanely .. insanely beautiful. I'm a big fan of how you write but this takes names in its bloodshed. This poem is a total package. It has sadness, loneliness, ache, sex, sensuality, masculinity, clever verses, reality, a story, and vulnerability that I can believe. Excellent. My favorite from you.







