Every relationship ups and downs.
I’m a writer with leg stress.
—Jack Kimball
Approaching Juarez the dirt finally becomes
brown. Pretty electricity poles and dangled
knots of electricity (second call for the 5 o’-
clock dinner reservation). Toothpicks in the
distance, above lens wipe and Listerine. Step
off the plane into a molten facial (Jack, Jack)
adds identity to an otherwise lovely résumé.
