Wednesday, March 23, 2016

ground control

your father
with a cell phone
is lost
in space, calling from
a capsule
in the nineteen sixties,
floating high above the earth.
his voice mail is still
in Spanish and is somehow
full.
I can't hear
you major tom,
this is ground control,
can you hear
me dad, can you hear me?
put the phone
up to your ear, no the other
way. right side up.
stop yelling, we'll get through
this.
don't touch any buttons.
ignore the beeps.
ignore the messages
coming across the screen.
stay calm.
this is ground control,
your son. we have a problem.
take the phone into the
bathroom,
fill the sink with water,
drop the phone into the water.
then call me on your
land line.

No comments: