Phil is a Dunderhead

Phil galumps around with messy schizophrenic hair and wearing worn out paint splattered shoes with grass stains, size 12, and mis-matched sweats…some marine bottoms…he never was a marine and says well, she called yesterday and i wrote down the number

and he never, never gives me my messages, but clears the machine so i don’t know any have come and wont thro those gawdawful shoes away despite a dozen nice pair sitting in there like trophies on a shelf

and i say, well, i would’ve really liked to know that Diane called

and he says, over his specks on the extreme tip of his nose, i wrote it down and it’s over there in some grand defense and he’s pointing at a swarm of paper, lottery tickets with guitar chords scribbled on them and scraps of newspaper with strange mixes of words like ‘someplace only we know’ and ‘where in the world’ and ‘belize nova scotia and rome’

so, i pout.

and he’s saying that question that drives me crazy, “did you ever hear….?” fill in the blank with some esoteric band name…the crackers or squash blossoms or pinochle pantwearin partikle board? and i say, or used to say “nooo” like a question waiting for the grand announcement of how wonderful they are and why, but now i just say “yes, they are my favorite” and he keeps reading something through those precariously perched spectacles and doesn’t look up or explain or even hear that i’ve changed my answer.

you are a dunderhead, i said.

well, it’s my nature, he replied, still scribbling on some scrap even tho i’ve bought him really nice notebooks from time to time
but he prefers these scraps and gets organized by putting them in cardboard boxes from time to time and stacking them behind the living room door so i can’t get in here very well.

and then he sez i’m going to workout and i’ll see you tomorrow and i think what the hell is he talkin about now?!
you’re going to workout all nite?

and he sez no you’re sleepy and you’re going to sleep soon and will sleep all nite.

and i do, but i didn’t know i would and he’s not even looked at me to know this and dunders on thru whatever he’s scribbling and reading and plunking away on the keyboard like a little boy just learning.

dunderhead! i think and go pouting off to read, but before i know it i wake up with books under me poking me and the tv is buzzing because the station’s gone off so i get up to look for phil and he’s hunched over the computer lookin up moon river.

well, he says, some many hours later, did you enjoy talking with Diane?

Phil is a Dunderhead

Marie Monroe

Louisville, United States

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