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July 30, 2003 / Maleesha Kovnesky

You never call anymore

I used to have a friend named Carli,
Who wrote poems ’bout chicken soup and barley.
She moved in with a guy named Hersh T
And now she hardly ever talks to me…

All I want is a simple hello!
To hear about her Thanksgiving jello.
And maybe about her school and work,
But she must think Im some kind of jerk!

‘Cause she never calls, and barely writes –
Haven’t heard from her for 40 days and nights!
Claims that she ‘lost my number’ – lame excuse!
Too busy ‘remodeling’ in the theme of ‘Moose’

To call – but that is ok, I’ll be here, alone…
Staring at my non-ringing phone.
We were supposed to get old, and buy an RV
And see the Grand Canyon, Des Moines, and Poughkeepsie

But now that I know that you’re taken and all
I’ll settle for a lousy telephone call
Do you need me to send you a telephone card?
Just dial down the center, it isn’t that hard!

And so I wait patiently for this friend in Seattle
To give a holler, a smoke signal, some kind of rattle!
Alas, I feel she’s forgotten my face…
Not to mention the bike crash, bad perm, Cookie Place.


That's what she said!

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