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The Phone Call

A Poem

By Laura DiNovis BerryPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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I was coming in

Major League pitched fast ball

Meteor that killed the dinosaurs

Muhammad Ali's punches

hot.

Arguments primed, defenses high.

I was prepared for

Golf ball sized hail

Pepper spray in the eyes

Arrowhead sluicing flesh

barbs.

I jabbed, you — did nothing.

Your response was so

Drizzle on the sidewalks

Milk into coffee

First breath in the morning

benign...

Still suspicious, I hung up the phone.

My round cheeks were

Tomatoes on the vine

Fleshy embers

Lava on the front lawn

burning.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Laura DiNovis Berry

Welcome! I provide free book reviews for modern poets! At the end of the year, 10% of all earnings and donations will be given to a non profit organization. This year you will all be helping Lambda Literary! Thank you!

Twitter: @poetryberry

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