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A recorded reading of “Answer the Door”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
When it ends—and it will—keep the slip with ink: “beans, milk” in their hand. Retire one joke like a jersey and hang it in the warm lean of light. Learn their stew by tasting. Keep hunger out of weather. No understudies; let the cue light sleep. Teach the curtains to breathe. Open the window wider. Let sirens cross the room. Let dust settle its slow music on the table. Bless the friend who slips their orbit. Unhook them from your private script. Spare the version that asked for proof. Post it from a bench. Choose a different street. Walk to the empty shop. Look until things speak. A cup is deep. The clock forgets the week. The city idles at red lights. Your name tastes like cola from a closed shop. New knocks look like trouble; they’re only next. Hide the good biscuits. Fail—give them first. Make tea before you judge. Answer. Answer the heavy door; let the world remake you. Be easy to find. Leave the door on the latch.
Lyrics
when it ends, and it will keep the slip with ink their hand wrote “beans, milk” you fold it, breathe, think retire one joke like a jersey hang it where light leans warm learn their stew by tasting keep hunger out of storms small thanks, not grand soft hands, not plans honour the break let the world remake don’t cast understudies grief is not a show the cue light stays asleep we let the curtains slow open the window wider let sirens cross the room let wind move all the papers let dust write us a tune leave space, not script let edges shift honour the break let the world remake the friend you called forever will prosper, heal, or stray bless them with that reverse curse free them from your sway may you be spared the version of me that needed proof I sit on a bench and send it then stand and change my route no myth to keep just roads to meet honour the break let the world remake walk to the shop of nothing look till things might speak a cup looks like a canyon a clock forgets the week the streets light up like dashboards old laughs arrive before your name tastes like a soft drink from one long-closed store memory is bread not chains, not lead honour the break let the world remake new knocks can look like trouble they’re only next in line the Infinite Friend returns in shoes that look unkind hide the good biscuits, fail and give the good ones first make tea before you judge them let welcome quench the thirst answer the door heavy but kind hinge on your side change in your mind honour the break let the world remake honour the break let the world remake be easy to find the door is heavy, opens
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