Cold Caller | By Simon Alderwick
he phoned me, the scammer, and said
he would never forget
his mother's words—
as she gives him everything he might
grow into it.
by the sound of his voice
he had a way to go.
but, I know and suspect
it's all part of the script;
so I hung up before
he could rob me.
he calls me daily.
prerecorded but I have a thing for
I let the phone ring four times.
my own mother said play
hard to get.
picking up, I never know for sure
until I hear the silence.
hear the click.
Simon Alderwick is a poet from London, UK. His work has recently appeared in the Adriatic, Dust, the Daily Drunk, Near Window, Quince and Green Ink. He is on Twitter @SimonAlderwick