John Carter Brown


A Phone Call... Please


The telephone is melting
The wife's been on all day;
I need to get a call made
But don't know how to say.

How can I gently hint at
My need, without offence?
I see the eyes, that steely stare,
The pressure is immense.

I could go to the call-box
But out, it's pouring down,
And anyway, why should I?
Oh come on Mrs Brown!

Still open lies the phone-book
Which she don't really need,
She knows the numbers off by heart
And whacks them in at speed.

By now I feel a victim
I glance, and she's on still;
I'd only be five minutes,
And, Hey, I pay the bill!

But even so she natters on
As if next week will do,
So I make for the kitchen
To have yet another brew.

Then just as I am leaving,
My eyes a 'bulge and red,
It's then she hands it over, and guess what?
The battery's dead.

Submitted: Sunday, September 01, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 02, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

She's not that bad really... well, not always.

Comments about this poem (A Phone Call... Please by John Carter Brown )

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  • Smoky Hoss (9/15/2013 11:21:00 AM)

    You must live at my house! Same exact situation over here my friend... funny how some things are the same 'round the globe! Good one. (Report) Reply

  • Noreen Carden (9/3/2013 3:01:00 PM)

    Hi John really enjoyed reading this also very glad i m not alone it s good to laugh at those frustrating things that bug us in everyday life
    Thanks for your kind comments on my poems (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Anderson (9/3/2013 1:21:00 PM)

    Thank God-I am not alone with this problem.Hilarious and vexing, a real fun write which I really enjoyed (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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