stallings // webster

Kelly Webster

'The telephone is threatening suicide,
Weeping shrill
As a jilted bride,
Trilling, I will, I will.
When has it ever lied?

Its black umbilical slinks
Into the wall,
It's listening in. It thinks,
Nudging towards the brinks,
We never call.

It wails in its cradle, look,
What we forsook,
Angry as cancer.

And we will never be off the hook,
And there's no answer.'