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Personal Note:

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Poem

Interruptions

She calls each day at noon, after her 
maple bar and coffee.  
Her only meal for the day.  Whiskey’s 
dinner.
I try to pick up.  Answering machines 
seem to frustrate her.

I want to ignore her call today.  
She’s my Dad’s 2nd wife.  He’s had three.
Today she’s pissed about the drop in 
stock on cashews.
People are wanting filberts instead, it 
seems.
And God forbid the rise in the cost of gas.  
She should have bought stock in Prius.
She needs to fire her broker.
She’s run low on creamer which she can 
only get at one market in town.
Ralph’s doesn’t care that she wants it.
And broke a nail opening bills to find the 
annual fee of $5 has doubled.
Conspiracy.
The maid tried to force her to eat 
congealed meatloaf
though it is something she would never be 
caught dead eating.
And her neighbor had a cocktail party last 
night.
She wasn’t invited.  She has no idea why.
They must be jealous, or Jewish, or 
Catholic or something. 
This up, this down
This right, this left
Nothing is ever as it should be.
Her call waiting beeps and she’s got to go, 
because somebody else
needs her.
I laugh at the irony of this.
She calls out she’s glad I’m well and she’s 
gone.

I go back to what I was doing, calling the 
mortuary.
This morning, my father died.
I wonder if she’s free on Saturday?


Published: Maelstrom

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