The eager note on my door said "Call me," <br />call when you get in!" so I quickly threw <br />a few tangerines into my overnight bag, <br />straightened my eyelids and shoulders, and <br /> <br />headed straight for the door. It was autumn <br />by the time I got around the corner, oh all <br />unwilling to be either pertinent or bemused, but <br />the leaves were brighter than grass on the sidewalk! <br /> <br />Funny, I thought, that the lights are on this late <br />and the hall door open; still up at this hour, a <br />champion jai-alai player like himself? Oh fie! <br />for shame! What a host, so zealous! And he was <br /> <br />there in the hall, flat on a sheet of blood that <br />ran down the stairs. I did appreciate it. There are few <br />hosts who so thoroughly prepare to greet a guest <br />only casually invited, and that several months ago.<br /><br />Frank O'Hara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-eager-note-on-my-door-said-call-me/
