late night call

you get the drunken
midnight
call from
an old girlfriend
in California.
whatcha doing,
she says sweetly, pushing
other buttons
with her chin.
sleeping you tell
her. it's four
a.m. here.
oh, she says,
did I wake you?
what's up, you
sound wasted.
she starts to hiccup,
I miss you,
she says and begins
to sob.
I miss you too,
you tell her, but I
thought you got
back with your
husband. I hate him
she says. he's
sleeping
on the couch, we
had a fight. he
forgot that it was
our anniversary,
the one where
we took our vows
again. again?
that's the third
time you've done that.
who can remember stuff
like that.
you hear the glass
clink against the phone.
are you taking his side?
bastard.
you men all stick
together. I hate
all men.
maybe you should
stop drinking, take
a shower and have
cup of tea or something.
maybe, she sobs. maybe
I will, but
I want to lie here
on the couch for a while
and read this new self
help book I bought, but
my eyes are too blurry
and the room is spinning.
oh, you say. well.
what's it called.
your new book?
men, she says. men,
who needs them?
oh, great title.
but then in small print
it says, we all do.
okay. well, I have to
go back to sleep now.
sure, leave me. go ahead.
you are so selfish, so
mean to me...sooo. my
battery is dying, you tell
her...
your breaking up, I
can't hear you...