i call my father for advice
in the love department,
which is a crazy idea to start
with, knowing his track record.
he quickly changes the subject
to baseball though, saving us
an awkward and pointless
conversation. we talk best when
nothing really gets said.
the weather, sports, his garden.
the price of milk, bread and eggs.
gas is two thirty nine for regular
he tells me before hanging up.
how's it up where you live?
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