The phone rings early, Wakes me from a dream. It's my own personal bums. I'm so lucky. The woman tells me her roof is leaking and her husband can't do anything about it. I set the phone down To see what all the clatter is about out front. It's just lunchtime at the summer camp. "Do you want a ride?" someone hollers at me as they drive by on a golf cart. "No. I think I'll walk," I say. I get down to the cafeteria, And the food is inedible, But I sit and listen to the string band while everyone else eats. One man has a neckless banjo hanging around his neck . He plays it beautifully with both hands. It sounds angelic, like a harp. The other guy in the middle sings directly to me While he plays his mandolin "Is he flirting with me," I wonder, "Or just performing?" Lunch is over! It's back to Life. I walk back towards it all While carts speed past on the muddy lane, Spitting hard bits of dirt onto my legs and face. I wish I would have worn some other clothes. Some carts tried to get off the path and got stuck in the mud. I nod as I walk past them. When I get back home, I see that I never hung the phone up. My personal bum is still talking, Complaining on forever, But now I know how to answer her. "Your roof is leaking? Mine is, too. Your spaceship broke down? Mine is, too. You need money for parts? Me, too. You're hungry and homeless? Me too, Honey." Cause we're all just somebody's personal bum. -jenn