The phone calls.
The phone calls.
The phone calls.
The endless maudlin nonsense.
The minutes and hours
of playing outside in the streets
because school was cancelled.
The running out of things to do
to keep me outdoors and away
from the phone calls of
people I never met,
the New York relatives who
did not know me,
but found it important to talk to me
before they nearly die again.
The days that followed
were a puppet show,
everyone on strings
and making up for years estranged.
