When I started college, I was still sleeping on the floor or in my car. My car was an old Ford. There was room in the back seat for sleeping.
The summer I decided to drive West, I sold the Ford which broke down all the time and I bought a Pontiac Sunbird which had a sunroof. It was a small car and it was hard to sleep in it, but I managed.
On the trip to Arizona, I never stopped at a restaurant or stayed in a hotel. I slept in the car and locked the doors.
The car broke down in Texas and it was very hot. I hitch hiked and a truck came by. The driver took my car into town and bought me a beer.
I stayed in Arizona for a few years and finished college. I got a different broken down car.
I remember Rita Dove, Norman Dubie, and margaritas and reading Neruda on the beach in Mexico. It hardly ever rained. We couldn’t go out until late at night. I learned to read poetry and mostly I had a place indoors. But outdoors was warm too. The story of my life included cacti and I love the way the dream of warm swirled through my poetry and ideas.