some girls i know have gone out in the world.

but most have married,

settled down to

children

and housework.

i’m different.

i have this restaurant.

i have a secret life, too.

a life the law is forever dogging me over.

i run booze.

i know every foot of ground

between boston and montreal.

i could walk the distance blindfolded.

i know the names of the customs officers,

american and canadian,

where they’re stationed,

what shift they’re on,

the tough ones,

and the ones who can’t resist a pretty leg

or a slice of apple pie.

the officers in vermont are the toughest.

i’ve brought loads through highgate and alburg,

but mostly i go through new york:

rouses point and plattsburg.

i drive a good secondhand packard.

it has plenty of pep,

plenty of room to carry a load.

and it’s got damn good springs.