Taxi
It was due in an hour and I
heard Mom answer it. We
take it and we cake the
countryside with all of its
ideals. Back in San Fran-
cisco, I return the can and
a suave draft of scribbles;
a tentatively titled life. I
return $830 (don’t ask)
and the letter written
from a dug up draft of
Dallas and a smooth
Japanese fire. We
know the drill—it’s
‘fixed’ with family.
A little break. Then
five things which
could each be called
a big backlog of kids.
