like some sweet casino game
they drilled holes in a disk
attached to your face
buxom and heavy
enough i could defend my life
by you. crack some bastard
in the skull. curled
umbilical cord wrapped around
the body. receiver gripped cold
dial zero for an operator
will talk you down
until help arrives
#katyamills
K IS SILENT 
Ha, brilliant! I can still recall our house phone number from the early 1970s – ‘273’!
It was described as a party line as each house in the terrace had the same line. So, it was not unusual to pick up the receiver and hear one of the neighbours chatting away! The protocol was to say nothing, but to return the phone to the cradle and give it ten minutes! 🙂
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That’s so great haha would never fly today. Sounds like a good premise for a murder mystery. Murderer on the party line uh oh!
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