I Don't Remember His Phone Number

martha looked outside for a moment
and then anther moment,
and said we should call joe,
and tell him about what had happened.

i said no i dont want to get him
involved in this.
and god forbid he wants to get a bite to eat
after we get rid of the body.

i know he'd probably pick that
new vegan place in the west end.
i can hear him now,
"it got a great review in the paper!
the udon noodles are to die for!"

martha said she wasn't touching it,
and i said i couldnt have my fingerprints
on it.
not after west point.
not after last winter.

martha picked up the rotary phone,
that was here when we moved in,
and slowly spun the pinwheel
around and around.
and

he was here and it was gone.

it didnt really hit me until
i saw the takeout containers
in the fridge the next morning.

the sign of another summer
on the road.