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.