Hank

Dear charles,
Was it like this when you were still alive?

A broken violin in the corner, with one string left.
wait, no, 2


Charles, are you there?

Charles if you were alive, we'd probably be friends. You'd probably like me. You'd tell me i have an old soul and a young face.


Charles, we'd probably have people asking about us.
but we wouldn't care.

We would sit around your house all day, and you'd give me piano lessons while we drank scotch and smoked cigarettes.
and talked. and talked and talked.
We'd play records.
We'd stare out the back screen door, rocking on chairs, puffing cigs,watching the cretins of Los Angeles bustle about in silence.

Content.

Charles, I wish I could talk to you.
When I read your books, I want to fall inside.
Close my eyes and fall head first, let the book swallow me up.

I'd land, tumbling in on your dirty red rug right as you were getting home the post office. You would always have beer. and wine. And you'd never ask why I was there. You'd just know.


You'd hand me my drink as I flopped on the ratty old couch and sighed.

"Charles, they're not changing."
"They never will, doll" you'd reply, opening the piano lid.
"Charles, ..they are so stupid. ...so so stupid."