Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Pay Phones And Quarters By Kevin Martin

I
still
remember

pay
phones 
and 
quarters 

meeting 
drug dealers 
on 
corners

I
shiver 
and 
shake

violently
in my 
past 
life 

sweating 
profusely

I
remember 
that last quarter 
cost me a dollar

almost cost me everything 
that I had left when the 
county sheriff pulled in
and stopped

touch tones in left ear 
now dial tones that match
the rythym of my heart

ringing and ringing

I
know he is still there i can smell
him from afar as the radio of 
enforced freedom cackles in
his ear breaks like a wave in mine

my connect answers the phone 
which startles me and almost
dropped the receiver the 
phones cord makes bending 
metallic sounds that can be 
heard on the other end

that can be heard in Heaven

I
tell my man
that I need to talk
a minute

he said why are you calling 
from a payphone?

told him a lie 
that my ol lady was being a bitch
smashed my cell phone

wasn't ready to leave quite yet
placed my order which was accepted

half an elbow of blow
a little elephants ear is 
what it reminded me of
could see it behind my 
eyelids

silence on the other end
he hung up on me as I'm 
waiting and waiting for 
Davidson County's finest 
mother fucker to drive away

I
drop a quarter in and call my 
brother who even though at two
in the morning I've woken him up
talks to me and understands 
my situation as I lean forward 
to adjust the Glock 21 45acp
safety to vengeance as there is 
always one in the chamber as 
my voyouer of Justice has had
enough of my laughter and gravel 
pops as he pulls away empty blue 
lights disappear and i tell my brother
goodnight hang up and pull out my 
cell phone to let my dude know that
I'm on my way and I'll meet him at the
spot in thirty minutes.



About Kevin Martin: 

Kevin Martin resides in North Carolina and is a regular contributing poet to The Arrival Magazine, Winston Salem, N.C.

1 comment:

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