My Uncle Red was a poet, and is still, somewhere, a poet.  He wrote me a
concrete poem on my thirteenth birthday.  It was in the shape of the number 13.
There are tons of boxes around Grandfather's house, and once I found a couple of
San Francisco publications that Red had sent his parents years ago, Seventies,
I'm pretty sure.  I found his entries and they weren't bad, but understanding my
grandparents as I do, I can see why the magazines were packed away.

	My mother and I lived with Red for a while after the divorce.  I was only
about four or so.  Or maybe I was six and I was visiting him because Mom was work-
ing.  In any case, I have some memories of that time, whenever it was.  Three
things:  The backyard had a eucalyptus tree, as a lot of yards do in San Francisco,
at least I seem to remember a lot of eucalypti, and there was a rusty tricycle;  
We would watch Linda Carter play Wonder Woman;  Red would walk around barefoot,
and I would be amazed at how ugly and yellow his toenails were.  The last image is
the one that really sticks with me, probably because later, for four or five years,
I would watch my grandfather scuff around barefoot himself, with the same grotesque
nails.  My room was situated between grandfather's and the rest of the house, so 
when his wanderlust struck, I was usually the first victim of his senility and the 
scraping of his toenials on the hardwood floors.

	The last time I saw Red was about six years ago, when I was first living 
with my grandparents.  He came across country to visit because I believe he needed 
some living money.  Or someone in California needed Red's money, and Mobile was a 
good place to hang out until things blew over.  Anyway, Red was helping with the 
family business, and I never remembered the shop looking so respectable, but he and 
Grandfather had a falling out because Red was looking to get paid.  I haven't seen 
or heard from him since that day.  None of us have.  But his nails lived on in 
Grandfather.

	Until a year ago.  Linda Carter moved from Wonder Woman to cosmetics to 
corrective lenses, and now I don't see her anymore.  Grandfather's dead, and Red is 
holding up the will.