I know that his boots were black and heavy as they shined like Italian history.
I know that for three years his salary as a police officer for a university
has been slightly more than a hundred thousand dollars a year
and that on the same day Puerto Rico was discovered (for the last time)
he leisurely sprayed a chemical agent into the faces and lungs of students
sitting passively on their own campus; their heads bowed, their arms linked.
I know that his apartment complex has a swimming pool (aquamarine)
and a tennis court (night-dark green, white lined) and that he lives in no. 616.
I know that when he is not wearing riot armor he manages the Records Unit,
but I will not know the sort of man he is unless he does not put a bullet in his head.
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