xerox
raze
i
found
your
name
on
a
yellow
piece
of
paper
dulled
by
time
into
dishwater
blonde.
i'd
forgotten
what
to
call
you
.
i
never
forgot
your
face
.
our
first
and
only
lesson
lasted
thirty
minutes
.
you
were
in
the
room
with
me
for
five
of
them
.
you
asked
me
to
play
what
i
knew
.
most
of
the
songs
familiar
to
my
fingers
were
my
own
.
and
you
weren't
interested
in
hearing
any
of
those
.
so
i
stumbled
through
fragments
of
the
themes
from
"
the
pink
panther"
and
"
the
phantom
of
the
opera
".
you
opened
a
book
of
sheet
music
to
a
random
page
and
said
, "
see
if
you
can
figure
this
out
."
then
you
left
the
room
.
i
had
no
frame
of
reference
for
the
symbols
i
saw
.
elements
of
some
alien
language
i
couldn't
begin
to
untangle.
you
smiled
when
i
told
you
i
wasn't
able
to
make
any
sense
of
the
assignment
you'd
given
me
.
i
went
home
feeling
like
i
knew
nothing
.
like
i
would
always
know
nothing
,
and
i
might
as
well
give
up
and
never
touch
a
musical
instrument
again
.
today
you're
senior
vice
president
of
sales
and
operations
at
xerox.
i'm
sure
my
face
and
name
fled
from
your
mind
the
day
we
met
.
i
doubt
it
would
make
you
feel
anything
at
all
to
know
your
pleasant
indifference
almost
crushed
me
a
little
less
than
thirty
years
before
my
friends
finished
the
job
.
you
still
look
the
same
—
like
a
convincing
but
soulless reproduction
of
a
human
being
.
221128
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from
