At Last, I Called the People I Claimed Not to Care About
At last, I called the people I claimed not to care about!
After the phone rang three times, I thought:
Let it ring five more—
I know exactly where this call will take me, that much I know.
The telephone is a marvelous instrument,
But I never quite learned how to use it properly.
Still, I wait—I’ll let it ring five more times
And then I’ll turn the receiver upside down.
The booth feels cozier than a pharmacy,
There, with its silver twist, stands the beautiful black phone.
The pharmacy, in my opinion,
Has more scissors and tubes,
Exactly what my body needs.
I needed a syrup for my cough,
And I know I’ll ask for it reluctantly.
I’ve heard that pharmacy guards hate phones
As much as they hate people like me
Who, inside a phone booth,
Try to listen for echoes.
Five more times…
I decided to stay on the same path—
To go to the pharmacy,
And then return,
To call again those I claimed not to care about.
