(Dedicated to John, and all the “All the Lonely People”, as the Beatles sang on).
By all appearance, he was an ordinary man.
On weekdays he would leave for work
by eight a.m. and be home just after seven.
The curtains were always drawn
so the neighbors could only see the T.V. glow,
which always went off at twelve.
On weekends he stayed at home.
Always alone, always with the T.V. on.
He never had guests, no friends or family.
As a mail clerk, no one talked to him at work.
Nor did he ever attempt to talk to anyone.
Some say that he didn’t even own a phone.
I really don’t know. I never talked to him.
Although, he lived next door.
He died of an unknown or natural cause.
There was no funeral.