my favorite neighbor

this is,
uh... let's say...
smith.

he's my neighbor.


he's an ornery old man
and he's the best neighbor i've got.
he lets me park behind him
as long as i leave enough room
for him to get out.

it is a constant battle
about whether i am
pulled up too far
or not far enough.



he has a hernia
the size of a medicine ball
i was going to say
basketball
but it's bigger than that.

he still drives.


this is smith and his wife.
they've lived in the city
their whole lives.
mrs. uh.. smith
grew up one block away
from where we live now.

she never learned how to drive
because, well, why would she?

somedays i think that smith
looks really bad
and i'm afraid his
hernia will break through
his stomach lining and kill him.

then i worry about what mrs. smith
would do.

then two days later
he's out on his porch
strumming his guitar
calling me over to his porch
to tell me
that i haven't pulled up far enough.
or that i've pulled up too far.