When I was working the cash register
in Eastside Bookstore 
on St. Mark’s Place in the mid-70s 
one of my favorite books to read
between sales was Andy Warhol’s 
The Philosophy of Andy Warhol: 
(From A to B and Back Again).
He was from Pennsylvania, 
and I was too, so I liked him for that.
When he got shot in the Factory
I was totally shocked. I couldn’t believe
that anyone would try to hurt him.
Anyway, one of my duties in the store
was to take books and ‘zines 
from neighborhood folks
and sell them on consignment.
They would eventually be paid for what sold.
One afternoon a woman
came into the store, glared at me,
then slapped a small stack of books
on the counter and said we had to sell it.
I picked up a copy. It was the SCUM Manifesto
by Valerie Solanas, who was now staring at me
intently. I knew she was the person who’d shot
Andy Warhol from watching the news on TV.
“Um, sure, we’ll try to sell it,” I told her nervously
and gave her a receipt. She spun around
and left the store. I put her books on a rack,
mentally apologized to Andy Warhol, 
and breathed a sigh of relief.