America says it has misplaced your number.
I wasn’t comfortable giving it out. I said
I’d let you know.

Africa’s birthday is this weekend.
There’s a party. No gifts.
                                        Just come.

If you’re planning to go, Greece wants
to know if it can get a lift. Awkwardly
                                                 so does Turkey.

Russia wanted me to say The worm knows
the cabbage but the worm dies first.
I have no idea what that means. Do you?

Japan looked really uncomfortable all night
but never spoke. Is something going on?

Ireland asked to be remembered.
I sang to it for you.

I didn’t get to connect with Europe
but, as the French say, Isn’t that just
                                                            too bad.

Is that everyone? Oh yes, the oceans.
They asked what they always ask
and I promised I’d repeat it,
                              Why do you never call?
                                     When are you coming home?

© Brendan Constantine, all rights reserved. This poem originally appeared in the anthology Blue Arc West. It is featured in Letters To Guns.

Brendan Constantine is a Southern California poet and champion for the literary arts. He teaches at the Winward School and is well known for his workshops at Venice's Beyond Baroque. He performs his work across the United States.(more)