ready to vent
over a canceled class
I stare at a phone number
on the bulletin board
about kickboxing

living in
a bilingual household
since two years of age
I've known that "nein"
means "no" in german

60 mile per hour winds
the windows start talking
to each other
as if they are about to ask
for better working conditions

a sense of abandonment
in the brooding
water tower
and the patches of rust
going up the conveyor

dawn at the sunset hills
country club
a goose looking around
as if it had just lost
a golf ball

no room for sleep
listed on this itinerary
the bags under my eyes
all packed and ready
to go on vacation

in the part of town
where laws
are merely suggestions
a boy skateboarding down
the yellow line of state street

the day quickly sinks
into the ribs of a chair
with few of us caring
if blagojevich is
innocent or guilty

in the fourth edition
of the american heritage dictionary
I'm not sure how kerouac would feel
about being wedged between
"kerosene" and "kestrel"

a ride to school
in a taxi
dad flips on the meter
to let me know how much
this trip is costing him


In 1907, the first taxicab started on the streets of New York City.


After serving in the military, my father worked for Laclede Cab Company and retired in the early 1980s. Thankfully, he retired before the rise of Uber.