Standard Procedure

Forty-five minutes of the same flute loop.

The radiator clanks in the corner,

a rhythmic metal cough

while I wait to tell a stranger

about the deductible I can't afford.

Then the silence.

The dial tone is a flatline.

My face is a pale blur

in the black glass of the screen.

I didn't call back.

I sat there and let them have it.

Some wars are won by the side

that just stops picking up the phone.