I've put my last quarter in the telephone slot.
I just punched your number--
the buttons worn down from my insistant dialing.
You left me here--
deserted in a wasteland
of hot, sticky abandon--
forgotten, spent up, done.
Operator? Connect my call.
Number has been disconnected.
Would you like to try a new number?
Hello?
Hello?
You left me obsolete --
but alive,
with nothing left to give.
Worthless.
You were but a spider
Whose web I was caught
Drinking me until I was just
a walking shell with pants
and one last quarter
that you still managed to get.
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