Friday, 25 January 2013

Call to the Bank


I am hanging my coat on a hanger
(fists as crunched-up as tight as two snails)
get out a cellphone and dial
with my teeth angle-grinding themselves
and my hand begins quivering ‘danger’
as I punch in the numbers to call;
circumlocute in self pity – the trial -
of hoping a human might help.

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