Phone Booth

Inside the booth
Of lonely youth,
Rings a cozy womb
Round a rosy tomb.

Ring, you devil!
Rapture, revel
For a dime
Of Pacific time.

What was once said,
Crawled into bed.
Shook my hand
And struggled to stand.

Then off you went.
Spent every cent.
Call when you can,
I’m your biggest fan.

A single, silver token.
A sliver of promise, broken.
Thoughts encased, unspoken,
Ever falling open.

This shade of amber night
In Fillmore liquor light,
Glows a wish that soars,
Then tangles like a kite.

I carved a longing box.
If lost, return to sender.
Still see you look away,
Closing words you cannot tender.


6/7/21