Andrew Kelly

Prank Call

It’s late at night and you don’t know if your son has been
beaten to death by three other sons. If he was walking
somewhere he never should have been walking at a time
where nobody else is out unless they want to beat another
person to death. If he has knuckle craters in his perfect
cheekbones or a blade in his gut. If the blood is rinsing
neatly off his face from the storm that just began. If he’ll
need a morgue makeover. Tonight is hypothesis. If this,
then this. If true, then you’ll rush into the growing rain
without a coat. You’ll run the whole way there. It might
be far. You’ll arrive just in time to see the body bloating.
The officers will make you confirm it. If the sky clears,
a posse of angels will come down like punk rock heroes.
They’ll hand you a business card and tell you to call them
whenever you die. They’ll fix your son’s broken nose.
They’ll take his corpse a little less gently than you would
have liked, but you’ll still get the feeling he’ll be alright
with them. This poem will run off with the refrigerator.

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Andrew Kelly is a second-year MFA candidate in poetry at the University of New Hampshire, where he is currently working on his debut collection of poems. His work can be found in Streetcake Magazine, Eunoia Review and Wingless Dreamer.