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Chris Boskovski. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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12 hour phone card
12 hour phone card...
I found one the other day
sitting there minding its own business
waiting for a phone call.
I picked it up,
he looked at me annoyed,
and I smiled at him
and he tried to bite me.
The 12th street bus to Michigan and West Chicago
pulled to the curb and the doors opened grandly
and the driver looked at me...
He spit and closed the doors
the bus hauled off,
leaving me and the 12 hour phone card in a grey cloud
of muffler snot.
I found a payphone(yes they're still around)
and I punched in the number that was on the front.
A couple beeps later a voice picked up
and seduced me,
I looked at the card
the voice laughed and told me to hang up.
I had no idea who that was, or what drove me to doing that,
I placed the 12 hour phone card down on top of the payphone
and walked to the next bus stop.
A bus pulled up and the doors opened grandly as I were a King.
I got on and rode to the closest stop to the Suburbs
and walked the rest of the way home.
I smoked a couple cigarettes on the way home
and my mother caught me,
she yelled at me,
I laughed and said I would quit.
I later remembered that 12 hour phone card
was for gamblers anonymous to help coop with addiction...
and I found two blocks away from the MGM Casino...
I pulled another cigarette out and lit it,
and I walked with my mind racing and there I found myself
rambling on and on about irony and metaphor
and how we all should just take one big shit on life
and flush it down the toilet we call death.