how are you

the voice is as it always was
heavy like granite
but warm like burbon at christmas.
the hello is unsure, like boys are
with sweaty palms and over licked lips
at a school dance
the insides of their pockets rubbed raw.
there is a laugh uncorked that shocks me,
stirs in me over waves of radio active wasted minuets
when we're not in coversations but should be.
perhaps becuse we never made plans
just made time like pre packaged meals single girls
nuke for themselves with unmade faces.
it reminds of her superglue smile
the revolver of her wit
point blank - it's like i'm looking in a rain soaked window
watching her left foot tap as she sits
some hundred miles from my dry patch of kitchen.
our telephones propped between ear and shoulder
and in between our words
you can hear i loved you i loved you i loved you.



...