Prince Street Stop, NRWI keep thinking that I'll really remember things. That I can put my mind to it and remember what it felt like at a specific moment. Usually this concerted effort fails me. But I remember looking down the hill on my college campus after taking the last final exam of my first semester. It was for an 8am English class that I attended maybe six times. I remember thinking the teacher was an idiot. I remember looking at the massive tree next to the dining commons and the morning light that warmed the leaves. I remember thinking how I would not be going back to that school for a second semester. I remember coming out of my girl friend's dorm the morning of my 20th birthday and staring down a coyote from the elevated walkway. I remember thinking what massive portent being greeted by an early morning coyote on one's birthday must hold. I remember playing basketball in the jail in Ensenada. I remember working at the coffee shop on the Mesa and the girl who had a crush on me and the guy who thought I was Cuban and my wife coming to talk to me. She wasn't my wife yet, and she and the girl with the crush and I went out to have a drink after work. I remember it being awkward. I remember, when confronted by the smell, clove cigarettes, eucalyptus leaves and anti-bacterial soap. I still think that English teacher was probably not up to snuff.
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