Payphones Are For Cynics

Too many mediums.
The simplicity of conversation,
died today.
Died after the eighties,
because,
the neon lights,
and lines of coke,
wouldn’t last forever.

You can’t buy a cup of coffee.
Take your drink from the counter.
Move out of line.
There isn’t a payphone inside.
You couldn’t order a large.
It’s a Starbucks.
Ask the homeless man in the bathroom,
shooting his dreams,
into his arm,
if you can borrow his iPhone,
to make a call.

And fuck it all to hell,
if he asks you for change.
You only have a card.
Your piece of mind,
comes with a receipt.
But give him credit,
because he’ll take an I.O.U.

Light your cigarette with the same hand,
holding the coffee.
Pass by people that do,
and people that do not.
Exhaling smoke,
some to which is blown,
up an ass or two.

Today is Tuesday,
or Friday,
and you have work,
or you don’t,
but right now,
you are where you are.
At this moment,
there aren’t any expectations,
but your own.

And when payphones,
become fewer,
and fewer,
You can take solace in knowing,
that calls will come,
less frequently.

But a business card is mandatory.

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