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PHONE CALL

PHONE CALL

this dude like say Ray Liotta from No Escape steals the Ferrari from Ferris Bueller’s and speeds across that bridge blown up in True Lies but he’s not running from his past or something like that he’s racing to meet this ladyfriend like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s or no duh like Natalie Portman from was she the one in yeah from that Zach Braff load The Garden State or whatever except he’s like a regular guy though really maybe I guess he’s more Michael J Fox from The Secret to My Success than Jack Bauer and so he’s speeding out there driving like Talladega Nights and he has this Martin Sheen vision from Apocalypse Now what with the fan blades whirring so he pulls over at a souvenir shop like you’d expect to see in Steel Magnolias or something and there’s this Slingblade-esque man rocking like Cathy is it with a K Bates so the dude just sits by his car for a minute it’s as moody as an “Adagio” but wait it’s not a sportscar it’s a rented sedan like the FBI drives you know and then there’s a flashback such that Quentin Tarantino would use and you realize the girl is actually his sister like he’s Zooey and she’s Franny yeah yeah and they gotta meet up ‘cause he’s afraid she’s going to do something drastic I mean remember in the Backdraft trailer when someone said “You gotta pick up the phone sometime” and Billy or Stephen Baldwin picked up the phone and whipped it across the room it was like that this phone experience the Zooey dude and his Franny sister just had because wait okay yeah because their dad who pretty much looks and acts just like Gene Hackman as Royal Tenenbaum is sick in the ICU and the doctor who let’s just say ain’t House says it don’t no it Does Not look good for him and there was this gut wrenching scene in the hospital like that whole movie In The Bedroom with the mom like Björk from Dancer in the Dark don’t get me wrong Lars Von Trier can soap up in my butt if you ask me and she’s counting numbers all hysterically ‘cause that’s how she do when she’s feeling unaccountable and then there’s this sudden stop

and – wait

and – no, wait, hold it

and – okay – okay? – yeah

and we’re back by the side of the sedan but It’s All Different.  There was a misdirection, a sleight-of-hand. In fact, it’s you on the side of the road. It’s you, pretty much. You’re just laughing your face off. Real, genuine mirth, pretty much. Then you get up in the car and its Squeeze playing on the radio, and the sun is behind a tree, peeking.

Adam Robinson
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About The Author

Adam Robinson

Adam Robinson lives in Atlanta and runs Publishing Genius Press. He is the author of two poetry collections, Adam Robison and Other Poems and Say Poem.

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Good hair, crooked gait

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