Sunday, September 13, 2009


the morning voicemail
on some mornings
the first thing I have to do
is listen to a previous night’s voicemail
left after I went to sleep
by a good friend of mine
whose sanity
has been questioned by everyone
from his mother
to his teachers
to his marine corps superiors
and even the FBI
a friend whose mind
has been submerged in alcohol
for as long as I’ve known him
except for a couple stints in the desert
where it was dried out and ravaged
by a war
and one stint in college
when it was dried out and ravaged
by a woman
a friend who
for whatever reason
I easily see eye to eye with
on the voicemail
he first complains about his life
how nothing ever works out
how he is a failure
a loser
and how everything is going terrible
after a while he muses
about how many good-looking girls
come out to the bars every night
wearing pretty clothes
and acting so nice
in search of guys
completely different from us.
finally he says
maybe we should change our ways
dress better
drink less
shower more
get good jobs
nice cars
find some sort of security
in our lives
and that way
we can maybe be with one
of these good-looking girls
who dresses so pretty
and acts so nice
I listen to the voicemail twice
delete it
and let out a snort
because I’m doing all right
with the women
and have a job I don’t hate
and know that in only a few hours
I will speak to this friend of mine
and he will tell me
as he often does in the daytime
after his first few beers
that he is doing well
dressing better
drinking less
showering more
and that although
not working a great job
he is employed
and has found some sort
of security in his life
and that he has
a good-looking girlfriend
who dresses so pretty
and acts so nice
and when I ask him about the voicemail
from the night before
he’ll tell me as he often does
that a lot has changed since then

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