He knocked on the door because he knew that I knew that he knew what I was doing. “The benzos are on the top shelf, baby, take a few for later.” “Okay, thank you,” I said. “I love you, little boy,” he said. “I love you too,” I said. “The new poems are good—if I make you rich will you take care of me?” he said. “For the rest of my life,” I said. I took the blue pill.
