7

… THEY ALWAYS SAID THE same thing to me or it seemed like the same thing—this is your friend for God’s sake you can depend on him to help—and being lonely can be a good thing you get to think about things a lot—remembering when my mother died in the street felled like an animal by the failure of an organ—think, only think, an organ can drop a whole person—what the hell was the difference she never had all that great of a life anyway everything always being promised and how much of it was delivered—till finally she stopped hoping for much—full of fake philosophy about taking it the way it comes—when I was a kid in school the way music sounded when you heard the chorus practicing like impossible angels then you opened the door and it was just a bunch of kids taking chorus for their second instrument credit besides piano and the younger ones sang all out of tune if you listened carefully—but I never forgot how they sounded through those closed doors—the dirty bastards have been closing doors on me ever since like telling me all right wise guy you think it so beautiful from behind the doors we’ll close them all on you: wife, child, the man you wanted to be—you’ll see how beautiful—afternoons in the cold rain chewing on pity like on a piece of bread—nights shut into your skin remembering all day lies the next day impossible the dragging of ass out of bed horrible the decision to brush the teeth ridiculous the boiled egg on the plate the tie to be tied the first person you meet to have to speak and the closed doors only with no kids singing no angels impossible or possible only noise but I have a trick to play a trick to open doors and not let them shut ever again a trick …