No One Home Poem by Mustafa Marconi

Dialing these seven numbers
Gonna get my lady on the phone
It seems to ring a thousand times
I’ll call back later there’s no one home
Reach my lady two hours later
She’s teasing our baby with a comb
Try to work at communication
No success, there’s no one home
Take her out to a Broadway show
What she has on her mind I’m anxious to know
Holding hands she feel so cold
My soul is knocking; there’s no one home
Laying down caressing her body
She speaks with an aggressive and demanding tone
We debate the boundaries of women and men
No comprehension, there's no one home
Dialing these seven numbers
Gonna get my lady on the phone
We seem to talk a thousand times
I’ll call back later there’s no one home