Don't Make Phone Calls When Sloshed: A Warning

A Failure To Communicate

​​Young Lucy Clark got drunk last night
on Wild Turkey splashed with Sprite;
she grabbed her cell and hit the keys,
“It’s me. Just leave a message, please.”
           
“Look here, you bastard, at what you’ve done.
  You offer love and then you run.
  You stole my soul, you stole my heart,
  but you ain’t worth a skeeter’s fart.

---

​“You garbage-talking piece of trash.
I loved you, but I’ll tell you what--
You, Bobby, and your Kentucky slut
can burn in hell until you’re ash.
           
“I’m done with you and all your lies.
You stay away from me, you hear?
You stay away. Don’t dare come near….”
 
Beeeeeppppp!
 
She downed more drink, then hit redial:
“I’m sorry, Bob,” she slurred with tears,
“I take it back. I see it clear.
I screwed us up. It’s just my style.
 
“Pick up, please, please. Just answer me.
Remember the lake? The promises made?
You said our love would never fade.
Please let me hear your voice. Then we….”
 
Beeeeeppppp!
 
Another button punch: “Look babe,
I love you. That’s all I have to say.
I want to hear your voice, is all.
Oh, Bob, don’t cut me out. Please call.”
 
Click!
            ,
Mike listened to the girl next day
while drinking coffee in his chair.
He shook his head at such despair,
then pressed delete and went his way.