Seek the operator a night
in an empty house
before the cellular aged miracle
number not yet registered
or located in directory
She feels for the tilting
post box
Autumn song of the blackbird
pre-dawn
like pips
analogue as a Market & Fairs
licence
after shift communication
crumble of pharmacy bag
new advice for drivers
order phone box coffee
spot the Paul Smith
ask for an apron
[051 547 922 521]
Marker flags placed
party line cleared
mode telecom
Telex fax
green paint for rural areas
poetry for New Year’s Day
curl of steam from a coffee cup
Creosote poles
wires stripped
salvaged fir
you were going through
the photos on your phone
The room’s echo slows
the line crackle from Paris
1988
feeding francs into the box
on Boulevard St Germain
call Sylvia tell her she
can collect us in the morning
Andrew Taylor