who is all that racket (MR T. GOES OUT)

someone is banging on the
door
20,
25,
30 knocks
oneaftertheother
like a bowling ball quickly down the stairs
eddie gets the door, i
knew that he would
i listen
and then a voice:

"yo b, she frontin' anyway dog"
tyree is upset
but tax season is over
and he is an
accountant
eddie is consoling him now
"well you're done, right,
you gonna go out to celebrate"
tyree is going out tonight
to celebrate.

but
she frontin',
so he may not enjoy himself
as much
out
at the bar
full of liquid bullshit
spewing verbal
liquor onto whatever
ears will hear
his lonely story about a
japanese girl he
used to love,
a child he supports but
does not see, and
a burning couch in west virginia

i didn't roll my eyes
at him
tonight,
tonight,
from behind my door
i think i
understood
we let it out in different ways
but i think we suffer
just the same

so
there won't be any griping
tonight, not from
me
when he has loud, loud,
sad
sex in his room with some
filler, or when
pot smoke spills from
under that door
or when
he blasts obnoxious
hip
hop
i won't gripe
not tonight,
tonight,
i understand.