Today I walked around Gallup

struck by the poverty but dignity of these people. The children often walk barefoot on concrete paths to the shop and save. One moon-faced obese little boy wearing cut jeans hauled pepsi and cherrios into the back of the chevy van. He had such an idyllic smile. There is a quiet stretch to walk and gather thoughts. It's on the way to the highway toward Albuquerque near the railroad tracks, on the overpass, leading to I40. I'm in the process of gathering the setting to OUR LOVE IS HERE TO STAY(it can be murder). I hope the Natives don't think I'm spying, but I follow them and secretly describe how they appear to me. I am always the stranger here, but so happy for this solitude that lets me take this ride once more through the grandeur and misery of a factitious love.