Finding Forrester

...a poem he wrote while strung out
on coke and obsessed with death.

''The Raven'' is like the football team.
There's a team obsessed with death.
Always get their ass kicked.

Baltimore Ravens, only pro football
team named after a classic poem.

Anyone read it?
''Once upon a midnight dreary
While l pondered, weak and weary....''
Jamal, how about it?
No, l never read it.
Okay, l need those essays
by next Tuesday.

Yo, man, my dad saw The Window, man.
Yo, man, my dad saw The Window, man.
About 20 years ago.
Just like a ghost, like the ones
that be in our science books.

-Just like that.
-So, what, he was white?

Ain't milk white?
-Ever see a ghost that wasn't white?
-Just playing.

l heard he killed somebody.
That's why he stays inside.

You gotta kill an army to hide here.
-Y'all play too much.

Remember Shurrita?
She used to live below The Window?
She calls me up this one night,
bugging, dog. Bugging.

Saying she heard this tapping
from upstairs by The Window's place.

While she was on the phone,
she started screaming, dog.

Because now the tapping made
its way down the stairs somehow.

-...tap, tap.
-Listen to him, fool.

And now it was on
the other side of her door, dog.

She could tell there was some
type of knife he was tapping with.

Before she can even hang up,
the phone disconnected.

-That's the last time we seen her.
-Shurrita from across the street?

Come on, man, yo.
You know that girl is a crack ho.

No, no, she was nice.
Listen, man, all l know is
that The Window's bad news.

Rules was, you go outside,
you stay away from The Window's place.