Payphone Poem by Rachel Flint
Payphone
A pound buys me,
Twenty minutes,
On the old
Pay phone.
Twenty minutes,
Of longed for voices,
To feel at home.
A second cannot
Be wasted.
Can’t remember,
The detail.
It is boring,
Ordinary stuff.
As the final minutes pass,
I panic.
All my feelings,
Come out in one breath.
Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: iloveyou
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8/5/2026 1:47:32 AM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
