I called you on the telephone.
It turned out weren’t at home.
“How can this work, if you won’t pick up.”
I messaged, sipping coffee from my cup.
“I’m right here,” a voice did say.
A hallucination as clear as day.
This was no time to go insane.
Hitting redial, I tried her in vain.
No answer. I feared I’d become unstable.
“Hey, lunkhead, I’m right across the table.”
The voice matched by a pounding sound.
The angry poltergeist had me spellbound.
Then a splash of water hit my face.
Lashing out, angered at the disgrace.
“Oh, hey, how long have you been there?”
Rolling her eyes in a dumbfounded stare.
By B Gourley in humor, poem, Poetry on February 12, 2017.
