You dial your phone and wake
Me up and as such you tell, at
Six o’clock, when my night is
Ending, how you conclude your
Day—we have so much to say and
So much in common; but you know
That I too am human. I take the world
Like a medicine ball
But that’s how we began—
A remote exercise conducted
Between friends.
And you know me in a future tense
Reading verse to delinquent boys
Extracted from their shop class
Who could not care less about my jealousies;
They feel powerless, like me,
With jealousy like hatred for the things
We really love but fear we cannot have.
But that is past, best left alone,
And you can call at any time, just
Dial the phone.
My number lies
On a crowded page
In the middle
Of the book.
~
First published in Whiskey Island Magazine, Spring 1983.
