Don't use the phone. People are never ready to answer it. Use poetry.

The other man, just as
lonesome as I am
In this empty universe

Hitch hiked a thousand
miles and brought
You wine

November the seventh
The last
Faint cricket

Buds in the snow
—the deadly fight
between two birds

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.