bigger (12/17/82)
An Acquaintance of Mine I want to be called Earl, and wipe grease from my hands in some sandy, gas station desert. Or sell life insurance in a flatland town of "6,000 friendly people" who're likely to think Carter's still in office. Or maybe teach English and coach another team in Vermont, where high school students would call me Mr. Meyer and would not have heard all the bad words that I have. (Or somehow think of two more lines for this thing that would make it an anonymous sonnet.) Or anything, fill in the blank, to keep me from writing things colored by knowing I'm not just someone that you once met.