calls, calls, calls… like rain



calls, calls, calls… like rain
like bullets, like bricks thrown
to burst our little bubble of time
you couldn’t dodge them all
but you finally snapped “no more phone calls”
and switched that thing off
we saw rufus that night – rufus!

i’m sure rufus has no idea
how prominent he was
in our makeshift mythology
as some impossibly graceful dream of everything you were adamant you could never be: handsome, charming, interesting (“exotic! waxy! tender!”)
he was all these things that night, and so were you.
and …so tired of america
long before rufus




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s