#telephones
they know who i am,
i first violated their ordinances
in the commission of a prank
phone call when i was eleven
simply a twenty-two second call
to a residence notifying them that
their refrigerator was running away
and i guess maybe it did—
because there was a strange non-analog
sound which indicated to me that the
authorities were monitoring.
my name is now certain to appear on
government stationary amongst a list
of other eleven year old offenders
inside a folder that sits in a drawer
of a file cabinet within row after row
of other file cabinets matrixed
underneath probably an eleven square
mile parcel somewhere outside
Langley, Virginia
(not to mention how many floors)
telephone patrolmen never forget a name,
and even if i turn eighty-eight they will
eventually issue warrants for my arrest
with patch cables on hand to tie me up
in order to extract confessions regarding
appliances for which no one has
any immediate concern—
ring tones will distract their focus as i wink
into the two way mirror, their failure to
hang me up until the eleventh hour
sandwiched firmly between my lips...
"the phone police"
©2012-2020 by Seranaea Jones
All rights reserved.
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 8:45 AM UTC
Telephones.
Earphones.
Earplugs.
To drown out
Baby cries.
Engines exhaling.
Anxiety.
"Don't be afraid"
"You've done this before"
"He knows what he's doing"
The tired.
The disagreeable.
The impossibly experienced.
Tickets.
Bags.
Smile-free faces.
I'm ready.
You're ready.
Let's go already.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC