|
![]() DIANE PAYNE BEFORE THE PHONE GOES DEAD I answer the phone and listen to a woman ramble on about how she has locked her keys in the car and nothing is going right. "I know this is the wrong number and I'm in this dark parking lot." Then the phone goes dead and I'm left wondering if I should trace the call, notify the police, or simply finish reading my daughter her books before bed. Phone rings in the middle of the night and I must decide whether to answer it or wait until morning to see who has died. I pick up the receiver but say nothing. "Pendejo! ¿Sabes quien es?" he laughs. I have no idea who he is and remain quiet. "La cagamos," he continues. "Portate bien," I say before the phone goes dead, hoping he'll believe he's called his mother by mistake. On a hot afternoon the phone rings and a man begins talking about how there's only four hundred more miles to drive and everything will be fine this time. He's sorry about what has happened and is certain it won't happen again. "Baby, I can't wait to see you. Baby, why aren't you saying anything?" "I think you have the wrong number." "Quit clowning, Baby." "I'm not." Then the phone goes dead. Poem, © 2000, DIANE PAYNE (all rights reserved; To copy or translate this poem, please contact the poet) Site design, © 2000, John Horvath Jr., PoetryRepairShop. and www.poetryrepairs.com (All Rights Reserved). TRANSLATOR and/or ILLUSTRATOR WANTED FOR THIS PAGE |
|
Issues MM
.01 |
.02 |
.03 |
.04 |
.05 |
.06 |
.07 |
.08 |
.09 |
.10 |
.11 |
.12 |
Pages:
133 |
134 |
135 |
136 |
137 |
138 |
139 |
140 |
141 |
142 |
143 |
144![]() |
|