a woman from san antonio, texas

every few nights the phone
rings and it’s this woman from san antonio, Texas.
she’s not much of a talker,
always keeping our conversations brief and
to the point.

“hello,” she said.

“hey, how’s everything over there?”

“better than other days,” she told me.

“what of your daughter, is she alright? how’s the boyfriend?”

“she’s alright. and he’s gone, for the time being. what about you?”

“I’m driknking and typing and placing sharp things against my skin.”

“sounds appealing. and your woman?”

“she’s there,” I informed her. I made a drink.

“sounds good. anyways, just called to see what you were up to. it seems
you’re alright, so I’ll call back tomorrow. I might be dropping into town for a
bit.”

“alright,” I said.

“ok. bye. take care, seth,” she said and hung up.

“bye,” and I placed the phone down.

I took a sharp hit from my drink
and chuckled.
she’s said she’ll drop
by for a whole year now.
and every time
I sit and
drink
until the next morning.