eavesdropping raze too many summers ago, i stood at my dormant window air_conditioner and listened to a man younger than i was and drunker than i would ever be scream at his father, tired but too terrified to walk away. a cab sat idling in the middle of the street. the kid's last name was a commune on the southern coast of sicily. his grandparents were my next-door neighbours. when he needed drug money, he would break in and steal whatever possessions of theirs he thought he could sell. i could hear him trying to tear the front_door from its frame. his father kept saying his name. trying to calm him down. all he got back was, "fuck you, dad." after a while he gave up, got in the car, and left his son to stagger back to whatever pocket of misery he called home when he wasn't terrorizing the people who made the man who helped make him. 230421 what's it to you? who go blather from