In the
morning from bed
I hear his
snores transition to grunts
and then the
music comes on,
Jack Johnson
or something at top volume.
Bill is singing
along, stomping, dancing,
falling, chortling,
yelling,
switching songs
in the middle,
turning the
volume up,
going back
again,
breaking every
rule in the book.
I stay in
bed til noon
with the cat
curled kitty-corner
from me,
alone as we can get.
When I finally
emerge
Bill catches
me on the stairs with a question:
tomorrow morning can you please keep the
music down?
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