Those were the days

Those were the days when, caught in black and white,
a telephone booth served communication.
You needed coins and sometimes had to fight
to feed the slot real fast in concentration.

If you were lucky you could find the number
in directories provided but worn out.
But often such a search proved to be dumber
because the page you needed was torn out.

The privacy then of your conversations
was mostly granted, unless only half
a booth could reduce the impatience
of those who waited, looking at your calf.

Today the privacy seems more neglected.
You can hear everything that people say.
And people’s legs are no longer detected
when callers keep their eyes on the display.

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