April 20, 1978

This morning Ann woke up retching without vomiting.

Ann has missed her period and her breasts are large.

She could be pregnant.

I have no money, but she has the $175 for an abortion at Planned Parenthood.

I would love to have a baby, but it's not my choice.

She is more beautiful than ever and I told her, "I love you."

She said the same thing, but we are not in a good state.

She is independent of me.

I can only be a burden for her.

I have $1 in my pocket.

When we met I was collecting unemployment for teaching at South Boston High School.

That's been over for three months.

A drifter, but I'm working at 26th floor of Ebasco Corp. on Rector Street.

Not as an executive, although I graduated from college with a degree in economics.

A waiter.

Only a little better than being a busboy at Serendipity 3.

The execs are engineers working on a nuclear plant in the 3rd World.

I eavesdrop on their conversation.

They think I'm Spanish like the rest of the crew.

Machine guns protect the plant.

The guards have shoot to kill orders.

I say nothing.

After my three-hour shift I walked out of the building and stroll down to Battery Park. A spring fog veils the harbor. I sit on a bench and read the paper. The Red Brigade kidnapped Aldo Moro, the former PM. Revolution has been stamped out in the USA. The fog melts from the sea.

LATER

Yellow faces glow with menace Dull steel menace with glow War rules everywhere And I'm here in New York.... No gun No cannons Only a knife To take blood Why am I here.

LATER

Last night Johnny Blitz of the Dead Boys was stabbed in the East Village coming from CBGBs.

He was stabbed 17 times in the body. Fighting is stupid, especially with weapons. I haven't fought in a long time, not counting my choking incident with Guadalcanal who now is a good friend. The East Village is rough, but the outskirts of the city are worst.

The Bronx.

Brooklyn.

Decay and desolation.

But not Queens, although the Son of Sam hit that borough hard.

Roz lent me $10. I'm waiting for my tax refund. I still need $31.80 for my weekly rent at the SRO. Why am I so broke.

Four in the morning Johnny lay bleeding On the street A Cleveland boy in New York Red spills from seventeen holes Someone will call Johnny's mother He won't be home soon He might be dead. Sirens sound in the distance. They are getting closer THey are coming for him He sees it all with his eyes closed All but the last minutes When Johnny runs out of film

Ann isn't feeling well. A bad sign which would have made Henry VIII happy about having an heir. We haven't spoken about having a baby. She wants a career. Babies are not good for those. An abortion seems in the works. No one in my generation has had a baby. I want one, but we are sterile because of our goals.