the land line

the phone is ringing downstairs.
the land line,
so you know it's not important.
only two people ever
call you on that line, that you
actually know.
it's ringing all over the house.
is there a room
without a phone?
and yet. the conversations go like
this.
there's no one here by that name,
and no, I don't
have any clothes to give
to the purple heart pick up
this week.
the rest of the calls
are from other countries,
frenzied men and women,
mispronouncing your name,
selling
drugs that men your age
might need.