Double Trouble

My doppelganger rang me up today,

Asking for money, which I don’t have.

I pointed out he doesn’t have a phone,

Or even an identity

To speak of.

He claimed I’m an imposter;

He’s the real me:

The self I’d be if I were smart.

He must have problems telling us apart.

The mirror says

I’m better looking.

It should know.

Now, when he calls, I’m not at home,

However much he shouts my name

As if it’s his own.

Though, each time I watch him go,

Shabby and wannabe,

Silence returns like an echo.