voice
on the phone tells me i have
three old
messages
waiting,
before they're banished
into the ether.
one from an insurance
agent,
selling a bundle,
car, life and home,
another from the Publishers
Clearinghouse,
telling
me about the millions that
i've won,
and the other
from my mother,
inquiring if i'll be over
for dinner
when
Sunday comes.
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