Missing Old Phone Booths; Pay Phones Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I miss the presence of coin operated phones

in the laundromats, the shopping centers

anywhere, far from home.


way out on the curb of the red and blue


striped gas stations, convenience stores

or in banks almost elegant, on plush carpets

in fine hotel lobbies.


in movie theatres, too

near the concession stands.


I wonder why they were taken away

seemingly in the dead of night.

who carted them off.


what miscreant gave the order.

it's true, at times they were out of order,

missing the phone book.


yanked from its chain.


I loved hearing the chime of coins.

the feeling that push come to shove

if it got stormy


maybe I could even live there for a while

closing the hinged door firmly

till the weather cleared.


you survived year on year.

American perennial.

what went wrong?


it wasn't even in the news.

one day at the bus stop

I noticed you were gone.


old standby.


the one I counted on

in case the bus didn't come.

what crime did it commit


in rain or snow

steadfast.

sure, sometimes


it was jammed with centavos

through no one's fault.

it wanted to take the call


even then. it was sentimental

if not, ornamental.

what happened to them.


all those phone booths.dime fed phones

suddenly deemed expendable...


where are you?

gracing other planets?

no one knows.


not even on the antique shows.

maybe in The Twilight Zone.


mary angela douglas 2 may 2019