Sherman Alexie

Sherman Alexie

Requiem for a Pay Phone

a Fibonacci sequence poem All That Autumn, 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 I Loved.

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