And when he came home Friday night he closed
the door and had a heart attack inside,
but no one knew till Monday. At the show
tonight I thought of him and wished that I
had seen him when he last came into town.
He would have had a Makers, and a Pabst.
He told me, once, you couldn't turn around
in Vegas and not hit an acrobat.
He smiled, and said Barry Manilow
was a real performer, and now I know
exactly what he meant. On my way home,
composing this, I nearly missed the road
and had to swerve to exit. I'm not sure.
Was I trying to avoid my own front door?