No One Will Take My Calls: A Poem by Scam Likely

No one will take my calls. Ever.
Not even my family. My wife refuses
to pick up when I call from work
to ask what I can bring home for dinner.
And my son, off at college, ignores me
when I call to see if he needs money.

But worst of all, when I heard
my father had died, I tried calling
my mother and it went straight
to voicemail. It was my father’s
stern voice telling me to leave
a message from The Great Beyond.

After Watching Ken Burns’ Six-Hour Long Documentary about Hemingway, I Dreamed I Asked Hemingway about the Meaning of Life, and in My Dream This Is All He Said

“There’s death.
Nothing simpler.
Bull gores the matador;
matador dies, curled and bleeding.
No ears.”



Kip Knott’s most recent full-length book of poetry, Clean Coal Burn, is available from Kelsay Books. A new full-length book of poetry, Hinterlands, will be available later this year from Versification Publishing House. Follow him on Twitter at @kip_knott. More of his writing may be accessed at www.kipknott.com.