Sherman Alexie

Sherman Alexie

Requiem for a Pay Phone

                                                 a Fibonacci sequence poem




I walked from

The apartment (shared

With my sisters) to that pay phone

On Third Avenue, next to a sleazy gas station

And down the block from the International House of Pancakes. I was working the night

Shift at a pizza joint and you were away at college. You dated a series of inconsequential
boys. Well, each boy meant little on his

Own, but their cumulative effect devastated my brain and balls. I wanted you to stop
kissing relative strangers, so I called at midnight as often as I could afford to. If I talked
to you that late, I knew

(Or hoped) you couldn’t rush into anybody’s bed. But, damn, I still recall the misery of
hearing the ring, ring, ring, ring

Of your unanswered phone. These days, I’d text you to find you, but where’s the
delicious pain

In that? God, I miss standing in the mosquito dark

At this or that pay phone. I wish

That I could find one

And call back

All that



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