Crank (Crank 1)

years, Dad.”

From daddy to dad

in thirty seconds. We were

strangers, after all.

I Got in a Car with a Stranger

A ’92 Geo, pink under

primer, not quite a

princely coach. Dad and

I attempted small talk.

How’s your sister?

“Gay.”

Sequestered on a California

campus. When she outed,

I cringed. Mom cried.

You called her queer.

How’s your mother?

“Older.”

Prettier, gift-wrapped

in 40ish self-esteem, a

wannabe writer and workout

fanatic, sweating ice.

How’s what’s-his-name?

“Indifferent.”

Either that or flat in my

face, yet oddly always

there exactly when I

need him. Unlike you.

And how are you?

“Okay.”

Near-sighted. Hormonal.