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an eight ball instead of a gram.
Yeah, yeah, my thought processes
have already graduated from casual
to daily use. But I don’t want
to have to drive to Stockton
too often. Hell, an eight ball
will last me just about
forever. Won’t it?
So Where to Find
Another hundred dollars?
In lieu of an allowance,
Mom and Scott buy
diapers and baby formula.
My savings account is
still closed to me, and will be
until my eighteenth birthday.
That impressive turning point
is only a couple of weeks away,
but not soon enough to score
the monetary birthday rewards
I hope for from relatives, far
and near. No, only one place
comes to mind, an easy
place, all things considered—
Hunter’s rainy-day piggy bank.
All those very same relatives
sent him a little cash, right
after he was born. I was going
to open a college savings
account, but haven’t gotten
