My Own Private High School Reunion

I was in my underwear

feeling dirty

late on a Wednesday morning.

The phone rang,

it was a percolator

at least my age

within a year

obviously,

since she informed me

that my grandfather had sold me out

and that it was time

for our high school reunion.

She asked about five names

one I didn’t know

three I ate lunch with

and one whom I ate lunch with who had died

violently.

For a moment I felt tough

relaying the information

that we had lost people

under mysterious circumstances.

Curiously,

She was mostly disinterested

in the casualty,

perhaps she thought I was lying.

She turned

to pretending to be interested

in what I was doing.

which was essentially nothing.

After a few minutes

I began to admire her for it.

She had gone on with her life

and I was obsessed with mine.

I’m sure

she was a larger part

of a shower of bastards.

I just thanked her politely

and gave her the address

of a place that fucked me over once

because I am hoping eventually

all the junk mail they receive

will amount to $100 dollars worth of effort someday.