Unloved, unnoticed, Barbie pink
This pavement obelisk’s in sync
With nothing… and yet here it waits:
A monolith bereft of mates.

Twelve years ago the kiosk came,
An iPlus net phone booth, by name.
It would, they said, transform our lives,
The proud installers swapped high fives.

Report graffiti, pay a fine,
A streetlight’s out, where can I dine?
A hotline to the council’s door
(Via some poor bloke in Bangalore).

Today it’s a museum piece,
A bygone fad, a strange caprice;
An object made redundant by
That all-pervasive force, wi-fi.

The innards are now caked in rust,
Its screen, alas, obscured by dust,
It’s only used, apparently,
By drunks who need a late-night wee.