I'm a freshman [sic] [not] — a first-year second-
term cliffie — sleeping in the hall outside my
dorm room because my roommate is a prep-
school whiner, I raise the black plastic
handset of my landline phone & dial at random
some anyone answers, “hi, there” I say
“how’s it going?” amazing how many strangers
stay on the line, me imagining them
them imagining me, late night, mid week
they may be deep in family & friends
or, as I am, on their own, I rarely tell the truth
& expect they don’t either, instead we two
bodiless, ageless, pretend we know what
it is we’re riffing on, what’s the game again?
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