I was in Dublin
When she called
It had only been a week
And she wanted to know
When I was coming back to school
I told her
That school
Wasn’t part of my plan
Anymore
And she laughed at me
Not in a cruel way
But just…
Just to let me know
That she wasn’t taking
Any of what I was doing
Too, uh, too seriously
She called when I was at
This pub that I would go to
After walking around all day
Looking for a job
That I didn’t want
The bartender would bring
The phone over
This old phone
That’s probably been there
Since the 70’s
And I’d hear her voice
And try to keep it from catching
As I answered her
And told her
That I would have to stop
Coming to this bar
If she was going
To keep calling me there
Because the owner
Was getting annoyed
Even though, in reality
He didn’t seem to care too much
In fact, he told me
That back in the day
Women were always calling
Looking for their husbands
And boyfriends
And, uh, fiances
He asked me
How long I’d been away from her
And I told him
It’d been a couple of months
He never asked me
How some girl in America
Could get the phone number
Of a bar in Dublin
Or how she knew
I was there
Maybe bartenders know
Instinctively
What to ask
And what not to ask
I sucked down my drink
And thanked him
For letting me
Put my backpack
On the bar
From behind him
I could hear
The phone ring again
I already knew
It was her
This time
She was crying
And I begged her
To stop
She wanted me
To come back
But back to what?
I told her that she needed
To try and rest
To close her eyes
And not see the bridge
Not see the car
Not keep playing that night
Over and over again
In her head
The way I was
Before I left
I told her that infinity
Would be
So interesting to explore
And that if she wasn’t so hung up
On no longer being
Among the living
She might enjoy
The floating feeling I’ve heard you experience
When you make peace
With your expanded soul
She told me to go to hell
And get my ass home
A strange double request
I hung up
And made my way
Out into the street
I couldn’t tell
If I was walking
Or standing still
As the city
Moved around me
Dublin is a city
In love with its own history
Like Rome
And London
That makes it hard, you know
To tell the living
From the dead
It makes it hard to know
If you’ve still got
A bit of life
To work with
Or if you should
Go in somewhere
Sit down
And pour a drink
Into whatever’s left
Of you
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