Postcard from Paris

On my kitchen table Postcard from Paris Trifolded city map of Kathmandu Drumming her red fingernails on the table Distractedly watching the Evening news Final call flight 57 Now boarding gate 22 I'll call you when I get there as I always do Time is the constant that slips out the back door I dialed her telephone and Charged it to my room Hearing the voice she saves for overseas calling I hear her smile Tell me, Karie, where are you? When you play are people dancing The way that we used to do Even though she is asking I know that she won't recall When I fly home in June Fly away Jack Fly away Jill Come back Jack Ooo, if you will There on the table Two cold Presidentes A couple chanced to dance Just this afternoon Oh what a chance Farewell little island To wind up dancing in your Crown Heights living room Final call flight 57 Now boarding gate 22 Memories of my mother Are you calling me Or am I calling you Fly away Jack Fly away Jill Come back Jack Ooo, if you will If you will I remember Do you remember me This way