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46 the minnesota review Harold Witt Borderline The doctor says I'm borderline highpressure — another symptom of my day and age — he put the cuff on, pumped, and took the measure. "Smoke fewer pipes." He says nothing of rage, which overheats a person worse than salt and isn't easy not to sprinkle in — a world of madness perilous with fault raises the needle of the blood's reaction. I go out calmly, though, past waiting ancients; they may be ailing but have Uved to be whitehaired, eyeglassed liverspotted patients — the lady busdriver who's over sixty says ten for seniors, twenty five for you. I clang my quarter in, and none too soon. ...


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