is kim joon there?

you get the two a.m. phone
call. it rings and rings
and rings, then stops
and then rings again.
it can only be death
calling at this hour,
a call you don't want
to take. but in order
to get back to sleep
you pick it up and say
haltingly, hello?
is kim joon there?
kim joon? no, you say
into the phone.
you can hear a cow
mooing, and a rooster.
there might be a billy
goat too making
some noise. chewing
on a tin can.  it's
three o'clock in the
morning, you say,
cupping your hand over
the phone to help with
the language problem,
and kim joon
is not here. you are fully
awake now and talking
even louder,
and if he was here, he'd
be in the other room
with his chicken coops,
asleep. so stop callling.
okay, i will call back
tomorrow, the voice
says. no. you say,
this is tomorrow. there
is no kim joon. there
is no keith moon, or
least heat moon.  no
june bugs either.  my name
is jimmy. i am the only
person that lives here.
i will call back tomorrow
the voice repeats, then
hangs up.