I am walking past a
payphone when it rings. I pick it up and say something in a silly voice.
It's Robert Frost calling. I just know somehow. Similarly:
"Brodie? Is that you?"
"How did you know?" How in the HELL could he know this?
"Well, I recognize the sound of your voice now, but at first it was because of what you said when you picked up the phone."
My friend who I was walking with looks at me. I cover up the payphone's receiver and hiss at him to leave me alone.
He goes and lies down underneath another payphone.
At some point I get into an argument with him about whether he was a brilliant poet.
"Brilliant?"
"'I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep'? That shit was amazing, man!"
He laughed.
"I should open up a gym."
"Yeah. You could have one section where people had to make a lot of promises up front about how much they would work out,
then they would have to run for miles in the 2nd and 3rd section...."
Robert Frost laughed.
I went to get a piece of paper, to take notes, and set the receiver down for a minute. After I ran back, the line was dead.
I dialed *69 as quickly as possible.
The electronic phone lady voice informed me,
"We're sorry, but the facility or location you are trying to trace depends on tenant anonymity to keep in operation.
Please blah blah blah blah..."
I slammed down the phone.
Yes, I actually know what the poem is about. In dreams, however, I still have a sense of humor, and so does Robert Frost.