long distance information

not a word I wanted to hear

not even by telephone alone

mobile glued to ear

I pass the last call box

in our town near

the chemist and

the crematorium

and the song starts

with the words changed

tears chase each other

down my cheeks

and I'm glad of the levante

blowing today

“long distance

information give me hospice milton keynes

help me find a party

dying to get in touch with me”

I want to laugh and cry

at the same time

and most of all

I want to sing the words

I'm hearing in my head

and see her smile

one last time

“but I don't know the place to call

there's no uncle

and no message

though the writing's on the wall”

here on the street

in this pueblo

for today

the guiri's face is wet

and the spanish

look away