Edgar Allan Poe And The Telemarketer

by Maureen Mancini Amaturo

Once upon a midnight dreary, my cell phone rang, the number leery.
Unwanted pest, this unknown caller, broke my thoughts, with breach uncalled for–
I was hard at work, though nearly napping, when this man commenced kidnapping
all my focus, which now is flapping, flapping from my present chore.
“‘Tis some marketer,” I muttered, “flapping words that only bore–
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was March or cold December;
when I requested every member of my home be called no more.
Eagerly I hoped he’d listen;–I hoped his promise wasn’t fiction
When he said he’d cause no friction calling my house any more–
For the precious do-not-call list I was not on heretofore–
Nameless now for evermore.

I resumed my thoughts and writing though distraction I was fighting
Hoping now–hoping now with doubt and terror never felt before;
Trying hard to still the ire, my full anger still on fire, hoping he was not a liar
When he said he’d lose my number which is what I did implore.
This intruder, rude and selfish, with persistence I abhor­.
Peace I want and nothing more.

But my stillness then went plumbing, broken by a call incoming
“Doubtless,” said I, “sure it’s that imp returning with words that I deplore.”
Again, I saw his number and I responded, “Dialing devil!–
Stop this madness or I’ll store your heart beneath my chamber floor–
I’ll wall you up behind bricks ‘til your lungs feel like lead ore.
Call me never, nevermore!”

They were our words of parting, and I hoped silence would be starting
With regard to salesmen pushing through my mail, and phone, and door.
I want my loneliness unbroken. I want no unwanted words be spoken.
What vendors call I’ll render unto the cold Plutonian shore.
Keep thy beak from out my ear and face as once you clearly swore.
Call me never, nevermore!

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