i forget to write. write the dreams. i was in new york, i really was, but i was in new york in my dreams and steph was saying i can dance and sing and i've learned german good since the last time we spoke. and she put on a small show of singing and dancing and her hair was so short again. and i said i think some one stole the whole engine out of my car. and she said don't say injun. and i walked the streets and allys and parks till i could feel my way from one subway stop to the next just like braille.
and my old friend keeps writing me and he doesn't know how much it makes me.