by Leonard Nathan
After the fifth beer,
Milwaukee softens, fine snow
Wafting me back to the hotel
Where the warmth of the lobby
Floats me up to my room.
I’m calling long distance now
To say: It’s all right love, after all.
But am told the number has changed,
Sorry, unlisted—
Well, that sobers Milwaukee.
The windows look darkly out on stone,
And I’ve found another place to lose touch with.
Tomorrow in Boston, I’ll call myself here
And they’ll just have to say:
He’s gone.
—from Carrying on: New and Selected Poems (Pitt Poetry Series)
Tags: carrying on, leonard nathan, sorry
