By Tara Przybille
Date: 5 November 2000
Press 1
Your call at 11pm,
the one that came crashing
into our living room
Where I had been sitting, waiting,
that call you made
to me, from a living room elsewhere,
It came through loud and clear
All thanks to At&T.
There was no mistaking the message
Fiber optics tunneled to me,
the blind one, though not deaf
unfortunately,
every one of your words,
a pin drop,
an anvil drop.
"Hello, I won't be coming home." you said.
So clear. So static free.
"Oh, operator, I changed my mind. I can't accept the charges."
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