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28 on dolores street some nights i babysat for my sister who lived in a flat with her two children her husband across the bay in san quentin feeding the kids canned spaghetti and fishsticks for dessert we wet our fingers and dipped them into kool-aid crystals the tart taste staining our tongues at night curled wallpaper strips hung down the hall to the front door and I slept in what seemed like a bottom bunk in a dark and dusty room and listened to my sister and her sailor boyfriend grapple in the next room the old couch moaned and creaked like a ship at sea ...

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