New Poem: Missed Calls

I wrote this today at lunch.  I'm not sure if it's finished; I may fiddle with it a bit.  It is a variation of a poetic form I've seen used before, however, I put my own twist on it.  I don't always use traditional form, but I think it can be very effective when done well.  Hope you enjoy!

Missed Calls

My phone does not alert me to all the calls missed

while at the copier, the fax machine, answering

the intern’s questions, who looking back in later years

will consider all of this information irrelevant.

Faintly coming down the hallway like a life, half-

realized in fiery-intentioned glances, a

ring, the dull repeating tones of matters that

demand attention like children.  Reminding me of

the inner stillness and decay of hours (a half-life

ticking away), a hundred phone calls in a glance

are answered and not a single one that matters.

I do not want this to become of me,

this mournful collection of missed calls

somewhere on an answering machine,

listened to for the first time years later,

composed of now irrelevant information.