Voicemail

Edgar, Edgar, it’s me.  
Did you see the news?  
I think that was Dad
they pulled from the river,
some dead, dead drunk –
it sure looked like
our father from that angle
and considering
the water running off him, well,
he looked just like
the last time I saw him, last week,
when I went to speak with him about
him getting help, maybe AA or something,
and he sprayed me
with the garden hose, 
and for the first time ever
I fought him, Edgar, I took the hose from him
and sprayed him with it, the two of us
screaming in the front yard — so, well,
I have some experience
in seeing my father soaked and drowned
and they said this body was unidentified
but dammit Edgar, it looked like him.
I know he won’t answer the phone if I call so
I am going to his building
to see if he’s there and then to the cops
if he’s not.  Call me,
Edgar; this is our dad, we need to get together on this.  
We have to stand together.  
I think it’s him.  I hope it’s not.
I swear if the old man’s still alive when I get there,
I’ll give him something to cry about.  

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