wjsullivan.net

Overloading the Machine

The Theory of the Phone

Let me ring a few of these numbers
to see if they pick up

He turned over in his bed
I hang on the other end, distant

"Leave a message asshole"
"Now leave this asshole a message"

The painting is of the mountains
Messages frequently go unheard
there is nothing I can do
She

pushed back her hair
she pushed back her chair

This is imagination, an unlisted number
and this is a procedure to follow

in which the mountain's frame is forgotten
and the phone of theory is a cord dangling

from the wrist
(these greetings are paid by the hour)

He ducks to hide from the entrance
She slips on the crooked desk

This is imagined, last year's number
answering machines calling him

Keep your normal voice friendly
Keep your friendly voice normal

The phone rings but doesn't answer
sleeping under its dust cover

He lived in a mailbox
a bucket that was slowly emptied

This is sense
which merengues itself

The envelopes will be quicksand for their toes
after they are licked

You can use this plaque on my desk
to authorize anything you do

I'll try to be more helpful next call
hold my breath

which is how autumn leaves rattle
in through the door

Preconceptions are fastened
but you can't remember man or woman

Preconceptions are fastened
first to first of the first

This is the imagination of electronics
and this is a grid ranking names

I've checked the emails and they are all for you
exactly what Fridays are for

Incongruous
the red-robed figure is rushing down steps

the dog noses the glass door wet
and the buzz of the misplaced wasp

Sinks unnoticed down the stairs
incongruous

but more congruous than a recording
representing an identity

The expression, "hold, just for a second,"
yet meaning is meant to be silent

That is the second or third floor
Where you can turn in your concerns with a foot

I do not step to it
but face an angled seating

high as the chair on its wheels
the theory of the phone, extension

or the counter-cultural building
the LEDs slowly climb

exactly what Fridays are for
there are only beneficial reasons for their truth

and the bells announcing their arrival
break cracks through foundation.

"Good afternoon, madam. How may I help you?" "Good afternoon. I'd like a FrintArms HandCannon, please." "A--? Oh, now, that's an awfully big gun for such a lovely lady. I mean, not everybody thinks ladies should carry guns at all, though I say they have a right to. But I think... I might... Let's have a look down here. I might have just the thing for you. Yes, here we are! Look at that, isn't it neat? Now that is a FrintArms product as well, but it's what's called a laser -- a light-pistol some people call them. Very small, as you see; fits easily into a pocket or bag; won't spoil the line of a jacket; and you won't feel you're lugging half a tonne of iron around with you. We do a range of matching accessories, including -- if I may say so -- a rather saucy garter holster. Wish I got to do the fitting for that! Ha -- just my little joke. And there's *even*... here we are -- this special presentation pack: gun, charged battery, charging unit, beautiful glider-hide shoulder holster with adjustable fitting and contrast stitching, and a discount on your next battery. Full instructions, of course, and a voucher for free lessons at your local gun club or range. Or there's the *special* presentation pack; it has all the other one's got but with *two* charged batteries and a night-sight, too. Here, feel that -- don't worry, it's a dummy battery -- isn't it neat? Feel how light it is? Smooth, see? No bits to stick out and catch on your clothes, *and* beautifully balanced. And of course the beauty of a laser is, there's no recoil. Because it's shooting light, you see? Beautiful gun, beautiful gun; my wife has one. Really. That's not a line, she really has. Now, I can do you that one -- with a battery and a free charge -- for ninety-five; or the presentation pack on a special offer for one-nineteen; or this, the special presentation pack, for one-forty-nine." "I'll take the special." "Sound choice, madam, *sound* choice. Now, do--?" "And a HandCannon, with the eighty-mill silencer, five GP clips, three six-five AP/wire-fl'echettes clips, two bipropellant HE clips, and a Special Projectile Pack if you have one -- the one with the embedding rounds, not the signalers. I assume the night-sight on this toy is compatible?" "Aah... yes, And how does madam wish to pay?" She slapped her credit card on the counter. "Eventually."

-- Iain M. Banks, "Against a Dark Background"

This page was last modified on 2011 December 20. "The Theory of the Phone" by John Sullivan is Copyright ©2003 - 2011, and licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.