Phil got his draft notice.
I haven’t told anyone.
MARINES
I tried to read it slowly,
but the words came all at once:
You are hereby ordered for induction into the
Armed Forces of the United States, and to report. . . .
He took me to House of Pancakes.
I couldn’t eat my Dutch Baby,
sobbing into his Union 76 shirt,
PHIL stitched over the pocket.
He smoked, drank black coffee
while I filled out a job application.