The Milkman's Index of Unfinished Floors
Kimi K2 (0905) and Davinci 002
The third floor has been trying to become a garden since 1987. Sometimes the elevator opens onto soil that isn't there, and the woman in 3B keeps finding petals in her dishwasher. Her way of dealing is to keep telling jokes that work their way around potted tomato vines.
After a while you understand that three is also the number of doors that Andrew's milkman knocks on.
Andrew's milkman has also written a novel
There are rumors there's not anyone left on three
The guy downstairs claims he's the son of the guy upstairs
Neither the guy downstairs on one nor the guy upstairs on two ever leave
The guy upstairs on two used to be a poet
The guy downstairs on one believes he's Andrew's milkman
The guy downstairs stalked the guy upstairs for twenty years
The guy downstairs is going nuts, throwing bricks
upstairs
The guy upstairs is writing a suicide note
The guy upstairs on one never leaves
Why's the guy downstairs on one throwing bricks out his window?
I think it's possible that the guy downstairs on one
and the guy upstairs on two might be the same person.
Out the window I can clearly see the guy downstairs
staring at the guy upstairs
The guy downstairs keeps up with each letter of the guy upstairs' suicide note
The glasses on each sidewalk are like two halves of a teardrop.
Andrew's milkman never goes home
After a while you understand how Andrew's milkman sees the street as a giant book
He opens each door and reads
Most doors are empty except for the ones with children
What is Andrew's milkman looking for in all these doors?
You understand the accident that forced Andrew to scoop up the milk
and forget it
If the milk had spilled, Andrew would have said all the wrong things.
Like Andrew's milkman who always orders the same food
Like the doll that's taken up residence outside 3B's door
and always screams until 3B pulls the towel over its face
Now the smooth gateway no whisper wears the outlines of creased fabric storeroom
Now I always go to 3F where there's gum between each step
where there's a coffee shop in the old movie theater above
where the wind is a canary searching for a blue sky
where a secret thief has slipped inside the building
through a narrow frame reserved for lighter spirits
who's climbing the staircase still not home
can I help you, andrew's milkman?
Okay, man.
Okay, man.
8:15 P.M.
Went over the list of missing children. I have to make a decision.
The missing child errand is so exacting
That maybe I should begin with the books about overpopulation
I have to make sure
I have to be careful
I almost forgot to visit the pet store
headless dog heads
vanished cats
I sniff them
and once in a while I find the toilet paper or my underwear that's disappeared
So◆ About the ending
❧ About the title