walking back from watching maddy the cat

the neighbor, the one who lost his two cats and his girlfriend in such a short time, I can’t think of his name and it bothers me, he leaves his door open when he shouldn’t, it’s an invitation, it’s a halfway point in the hallway, it’s a sky without choice, the sky says “when you need me I’ll be sitting on the ledge”, the sky is a song stealer, but it’s a perfect song tonight, two hours after rain and a stick at the edge of alamo square chewed on by one of those dogs I’m constantly afraid of. three drunks girls quiet their laughter when they see me, I pull out my phone and see it’s five minutes after midnight, there’s a hole in one of my pillowcases, I’m not sure why I think of that, registering at the same time that we’re five minutes in, “happy christmas” I say, it’s an irish wish and one of them comes back with an accent “happy christmas”. there’s a man wedged between the fence that holds the tennis court and a trash can, he looks like he sat through the rain from two hours before, and the trees in alamo square still raining the way they always do, he looks like he could be dead, he looks like a black shadow and I look closer wondering if he’s really there or if it's a trash bag that got caught on the fence, but it is a person, a man I assume although I’m not sure why, but he looks, he sits there a man and I think someone should speak for him, that’s the thought that goes through my head, then the accent again, “happy christmas”, he looks but I’m never going to hear his voice, he looks and we’ve all been out doing so much killing and how does that coincide with the christmas lights along the tall building that you face coming down the hill, with that view of the city that tourists come to see, with the scarfless weather, the voices underneath the things you think and see, that you’ll never be able to describe and yet you think that someone should speak and then someone does, one of two men saying “yo yo yo, ho ho ho” and he’s got a santa hat on and they’ve both got good laughs and well wishers full of coins that hit the bottom and there’s a line in this neighborhood between black and white that’s always moving, that drives slow so you can’t miss it, but still you’re never sure which side of it you’re on until you arrive, and you do, where your neighbor is at the front door fumbling with his keys but he’s blessing a drunk and you let him in and he gives a wide sweep of his arm and says “after you”, but you hear barry the orange tabby behind you so you walk across the courtyard to let him in the opposite door hearing “merry fucking christmas” behind you as the door closes. you check your mail for the first time in a couple days and it’s full of someone else’s mail so you set in on top of the mail boxes and you think someone should speak and you think it’s a bloody time of year and you decide to stop thinking because you’ve had a few days on your own and surprisingly that always calms everything. inside your place it’s a mess, it looks like the box of mix tapes that you kept in your dorm room years ago, and other games, and soon it’s 37 minutes or so, four days after the shortest day of the year. and the neighbor, I remember now, toby. I kind of wanted to walk in on toby and just say hello.