The man died of heart trouble quite suddenly. Allen left the cave, and the lean-to, and he moved north to Chicago, Illinois.
In Chicago, he washed dishes at a place, and worked out-bound
telemarketing at another. At the second place, he read from a script,
and got hung up on for hours on end.
And he wrote poems about his dad. And he photocopied them into small
books that he sold on the street, sitting on a building's stoop.
