Page 369
By Jack Joseph Smith
Short Stories
Dear Mr. Dennis Lienemann
I wasn't an Indian
Her eyes were stern and always a lift in her Smile
The brat with her balloons and then a leather chair
The walk with blue suede shoes
Over the railing with my son
Pus ed off of Big Bear
Me as John Wayne
Across the border for a shoe shine
A bad view from a bridge
First and last shot
Eyes on the mat
How his life and death had reached the stars
The only emotionally disturbed kid getting paid
Homosexuality of the heart
The only name on the Tower
The belt in the fireplace
Let him play the gutar
And she wasn't even sixteen
One knee on the cement
To only want the river
Crying does not exist
To let him go his way
At the top of the stairs
The Minister and the millworker and the piano
The first of the wine
The better part of the Hearse