I STOLE A CAR
I STOLE A CAR once, a Buick Riviera, that had a dent in the door, a puckered triangle, where the paint went all funny. I used to steal a lot of things back then, magazines, school supplies, cigarettes, clothes, beer. I work downtown now, have a family, am an honest citizen. Yesterday I saw that long-ago car in a lot, touched the wounded door and felt a rush of joy, an awareness of a heavenly Fagin watching over me.