I stood in the musty, off-white bathroom of the hotel and grinned at myself in the mirror. I was drunk and in my boxers. I needed to shave. Mitchell was asleep on one of the beds, snoring, a beer balanced on his ever growing beer belly. It was an impressive size for Mitchell only being 25.
He was in town for a court date. I was ecstatic when I heard, I hadn’t seen Mitchell since we were about nineteen.  I took his beer from him, set it on the nightstand, and shook his shoulder.  I said, wake up *******, come smoke a cig with me.
We stood outside freezing in the winter air, chain-smoking, watching the ****** do their rounds. Mitchell said something about finding one to score. I exhaled my smoke and snickered in reply.
“You don’t wanna stick it in ***** ******,” from behind me. Surprised, I turned around. A petite girl, puffing her non-menthol cigarette, with a slender nose and tattoos on her arms. Mitchell smartly replied that what if he did want to stick it in ***** ******. I wanted to know her name.
I asked what the hell she was doing at such a run-down hotel, why I had never seen her around town before. Between exhales she told me “I’m living with this guy but I hate him… I don’t even know what I’m doing with him.” Mitchell had gone inside. I invited her up to my room. While we walked, I studied the way her long, dyed red hair graced her plump ***. My god, that plump ***.
“I’m trying to get into some **** tonight” she said, “Are there any bars on this street?”
I was still thinking about her ***. I opened the door to our room.
“Um, I think there’s one,” I told her that we have drinks, though, and tossed her a beer.
I talked her ear off for a good hour. I can really get goin’ after a little alcohol is in me. What’s her name? I’m too drunk to remember to ask. I’ll call her red. She played with that long *** red hair and looked around a lot, antsy to…get into some ****.
“I’m not gonna *******, you know” she said.. I was taken aback by such a blunt, matter-of-fact statement.
“Oh come on,” I said, “My girlfriend’s ****** two different guys this week. I’m just trying to get even.”
“You *******!” She got up from the bed and hit me with a pillow, laughing, “You mother ******* *******!” A mouth on this one;  I liked her.
We goofed around for a bit until she suggested we walk around the hotel. We were halfway down our hallway when we saw and smelled a group of people ahead of us with a doobie. They gave the rest of it to red and invited us in their room. I met her eyes, blue, swimming in excitement and thriving in the spontaneity.
We walked into this room and met the strangest group of people I’ve ever laid my eyes on. There was a skinny, tall black boy with chains and a big bag of herb, two gothic girls with every lip piercing known to man, a preppy high school girl who kept losing her lipstick, a short black boy with a sizeable bag of white stuff; he told us to call him Doc. I think there were some more people there too.
Anyway red is chatting away with the high school girl, found out they had went to the same high school. We were sitting beside each other passing a doobie from the guy with the chains. Next thing I know, the shorter boy slaps a heaping pile of the white stuff on the table in front of red and I. Split it, he told us. That we did. Red did a few lines and sat back and closed her eyes. It was alright, she said. I did some myself. Now, I do forget whose idea it was, probably red’s. Somehow it got suggested that I do a line off her ***.  I mean she obviously had a nice ****, who wouldn’t want to snort a line of coke off a round ***?
Next thing I know, she is *** naked, face down in front of me and I’m trying not to get hard, which is difficult when you’re as ****** up as I was. The tall skinny dude was behind us, asleep, using his bag of *** as his pillow. We laughed at this. The girls smoked in the corner, and the other shorter guy watched a little too closely at me spreading the powder on reds white ***. It was as white as the substance. I couldn’t believe this girl; she won’t let me see her naked but insists I snort drugs off her bare ***.
After I was finished we all drank and smoked more, got more ****** up. Red and I eventually left and walked back to my room. Mitchell was open-mouthed snoring. I was being drunk and annoying; I rolled on top of her and just laid there. I rolled off and walked to the other side and lit a cigarette in our nonsmoking room.
“I’ll get you, you *******” she said, “You just wait!”
“Just don’t bite it off,” I said, “or you’ll make a half dozen women very unhappy.”
She climbed up to the top of the bed and perched there, cross-legged, watching the small television which illuminated her face. The news was on. Why is she so intent on the news? Now I know you aren’t sane I told her.
“Be quiet, she said, I want to watch the news!”
And there we sat at the top of a ****** hotel bed, coked out, watching the news. She held the hand with her cigarette in the air and let out a laugh. I accepted her like this.

has anyone ever heard of a historical place
it is in Alton Illinois
and been known as a scary place

it was built in the 18 hundreds
back in the Civil War days
back when there was slavery
which is now a disgrace to the human race

there's been some odd things happen
that I cannot explain
lights flashing on and off
And stereos that does the same

back where that I am sleeping
there is a slave that enters
but he is very harmless
oh what a weird adventure

I've tried and tried to communicate
but nothing has been said
but I feel a presence very close
next to my sleeping bed

Mitchell mansion I've been told
that there are many spirits
ready to unfold

many people believe in spirits
and so many that denies
but I am a firm believer
because I seen it with my very eyes

Mitchell Mansion has its secrets
that many will never know
but tell me friend would you come here
to spend a night alone

if i was a pearl i’d feel itchy scratchy stuck inside an oyster shell if i was a tree i’d  be a big fat redwood fantasizing about Julia Butterfly Hill living and peeing around me if i was a dog i’d be a Catahoula hound if i was Italian i’d be Sicilian if i was pasta i’d be spaghetti if i was Icelandic i’d be Bjork if i was a rock star i’d be Elvis Presley Bob Dylan Jimi Hendrix Jim Morrison John Lennon Bruce Spingsteen Maynard James Keenan if i was i writer i’d be Herman Melville Mark Twain James Joyce William Faulkner Thomas Bernhard Yukio Mishima Naguib Mahfouz Phillip K. **** Gabriel Garcia Marquez Annie Proulx Lydia Davis if i was a poet i’d be Walt Whitman Sylvia Plath Ted Hughes Gwendolyn Brooks Pablo Neruda  Heather McHugh Carl Sandburg Robert Frost Arthur Rimbaud Dante Alighieri Homer if i was a painter i’d be Leonardo Da Vinci Michelangelo da Caravaggio Johan Vermeer Rembrandt van Rijn Paul Cezanne Marcel Duchamp Jackson ******* Mark Rothko Ad Reinhardt Anselm Kiefer Susan Rothenberg if i was a photographer i’d be Man Ray Ansel Adams Edward Weston Diane Arbus Robert Mapplethorpe Sally Mann Helmut Newton Richard Avedon Annie Leibovitz if i was a philosopher i’d be Socrates Plato Aristotle Jean Jacques Rousseau Sören Kierkegaard Immanuel Kant Karl Marx Georg Hegel Friedrich Nietzsche Henry David Thoreau Ralph Waldo Emerson  Jean-Paul Sartre Jean Baudrillard Michel Foucault if i was a singer i’d be Woody Guthrie Otis Redding Grace Slick Bob Marley Joni Mitchell Marvin Gaye Johnny Cash Patsy Cline June Carter Patti Smith Chrissie Hinde Nick Cave P J Harvey Beyonce if i wa a band i’d be Velvet Underground Ramones *** Pistols Clash Cure Smiths Joy Division Uncle Tupelo Pixies Nirvana Nine Inch Nails Madrugada Sigur Ros White Stripes Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra Justice of the Unicorns if i was a boot i’d be Chippewa Frye Ariat Red Wing Tony Lama Wellington if i was a shoe i’d be Christian Louboutin Jimmy Choo Kedds Chaco Chuck Taylor p f flyer if i was a dress i’d be Channel Dolce & Gabbanna Giorgio Armani Marc Jacobs Comme des Garçons if i was a cowboy shirt i’d be H bar C Rockmount Temp Tex Karman Wrangler Levis Strauss Lee if i was a hat i’d be a Stetson Borsalino Stephen Jones if i was a fruit i’d be a mango apple banana blackberry if i was an scent i’d smell like fresh perspiration jasmine sandalwood ylang ylang the ocean if i was a doctor i’d be a gynecologist neurosurgeon if i was a flower i’d be a hibiscus rose orchard if i was a stone i’d be a sparkling ruby diamond opal if i was a knife i’d be a k-bar switch-blade machete if i was a gun i’d be a Remington Winchester Beretta Glock AK-47 if i was a car i’d be a Lamborghini Ferrari BMW Saab Volkswagen GTO Ford Mustang Dodge Challenger if i was a  TV show i’d be Law and Order if i was actor i’d be Charlie Chaplin Humphrey Bogart Steve McQueen Robert De Niro Ed Norton Shawn Penn if i was an actress i’d be Marlene Dietrich Ingrid Bergman Natalie Wood Audrey Hepburn Marilyn Monroe Helen Mirren  Meryil Streep Brigette Fonda Robin Wright Julianne Moore Angie Harmon if i was a female comedian i’d be Gilda Radner Lily Tomlin Nora Dunn Joan Cusack Sarah Silverman Tina Fey if i was a  football player i’d be Sid Luckman George Blanda Walter Payton **** Butkus Mike Singletary Joe Montana Jerry Rice Payton Manning LaDanian Tomlinson  Drew Breeze if i was a celebrity i’d be Charlotte Gainsbourg if i was a rapper i’d be Tupac Shakur if i was a movie director i’d be Sam Peckinpah Robert Altman Stanley Kubrick Roman Polanski Werner Herzog Rainer Fassbinder Louis Bunuel Alfred Hitchcock Jean-Luc Godard François Truffaut if i was a bird i’d be a eagle hawk sparrow bluebird if i was a fish i’d be a dolphin shark narwhal Charlie the tuna if i was breakfast i’d be a French toast pancake folded in half with 2 strips of bacon in between if i was a cold cereal i’d be snap crackle popping rice crispies shredded wheat cheerios oatmeal if i was tea i’d be Japanese green matcha Irish breakfast Tulsi Thai holy basil Lapsang souchong Luzianne Lipton if i was a soap i’d be French hand milled ayurvedic Avon Ivory Dove Pears Aveda  if i was a man i’d be a football basketball baseball tennis swimmer athlete if i was a woman i’d be a track star runner writer painter gardener doctor nurse yoga mom i'm just scratching the surface and the beat goes on lahdy dah dah

When I got to the hospital, the nurses told me he was still recovering from surgery for some internal injuries and this and that, but I could go see him for a bit. So I went up to his room and realized that I didn't really know what he looked like, other than blood and bruises, but I could still tell it was him by the way the bandages were wrapped around his head. "Hey Chief," I said, "howya doin'?" This time I knew he was conscious but he didn't say anything. He just gave me this look like he was saying, "Who are you?" and "How do I get rid of you?" at the same time. So I replied, "I know your name is Mitchell, but I figured the only way you'd remember me is if I called you 'Chief,' like I did before." That got his attention and he threw me this sudden, glowering stare for what seemed like a real long time, like he was trying to make up his mind about something. I thought I had ****** him off with that "Chief" crack, but then he said real soft,  "My name's not Mitchell."

     That suprised me a bit, so all I could say was, "But that's who's room this is, according to the nurses."

     "Maybe so. But that's not my real name . . . It's just a name I made up."

     "What, you on the run or something?"
    
     "Something like that."

     "And you ain't a Marine?"

     "How'd you . . . ?" Another stare, and then, "Nope. Not now. I was though."

     "I don't get it."

     "Mitchell was a name I made up when I joined the Corps . . . "

     "So, why did you make up a name? . . . You got a record?"

     "Nothin' like that . . . My real name is Irniq . . . It's an old Inuit name. When I joined up, I thought I was puttin' those days behind me."

     "Inuit . . . What's that, a kind of Indian?"

     "It means, 'People' . . . but you prob'ly think of us as 'Eskimos.' We don't like that name, so we don't use it."

     He stopped looking in my direction and kinda tilted his head back and rolled his eyes back before closing them. Then he took a few real deep breaths, and said, "I grew up in a village that was mostly hunters and fishermen. It was fun, when I was little, kind of like goin' on an adventure all the time. But as I got older, I realized how dirt poor we were and how we seemed to catch less game every season. And then I learned that our tribe owned land that the oil companies wanted to drill, and that the oil money could end our need to hunt, and get us modern, comfortable lives, but the tribe kept clingin' to their old ways. My father said it was oil that wiped out the herring habitats, and caused the seal population to crash, and was keepin' the ice away. I didn't care and thought he was a fool fightin' a losin' battle. I thought I saw the future and that he was goin' down with the past. We had terrible fights and I believed that the man who had once been this mighty hero of mine had turned into a pathetic has-been, and I didn't want to get dragged down with him. I thought that by leavin', I could somehow be part of the future. I didn't have too many places to go, so I joined the Marines."

     "Then what are you doing here?"

     He dropped his head forward, opened his eyes, locked them right on to mine, and said, "I left the Corps a couple of months ago. When I joined up, my father told me he no longer had a son. I guess I didn't really hear those words until I went back home and he shut the door in my face. My mother came out and tried to welcome me home, and get me to stay, but I knew that my father had been right all along, and that it was me who was pathetic. So I got on a bus and went as far as I could until my money ran out, and here I am."

     "What do you mean, about your father being right?"

     He closed his eyes again, brought both hands up to the sides of his face, and said, "When I was in the Corps, I got sent to Iraq. I was pretty gung ** at first, and thought I was fightin' for freedom and the way of life that I wanted, but then it just seemed to get pointless. Day after day of cat-and-mouse with an enemy hidin' in plain sight and no real purpose other than bein' there and gettin' into firefights. Then one day I was on this mission clearin' some homes of insurgents. I was leadin' a squad goin' door-to-door and not havin' much trouble 'til we went to this one house and there's this woman screamin' and tryin' to get past us. A couple of my guys had to hold her down while the rest of my squad got her family to kneel down beside her. The woman kept on screamin' and we didn't have an interpreter, so I went up to her and tried to calm her down. I told her in as soothin' a voice I could that we weren't goin' to hurt anyone, we were just lookin' for bad guys, when I saw this blur out of the corner of my eye. The woman started screamin' louder, and I turned and yelled, 'Stop!!! Stop!!!' a couple of times, but it kept movin' fast and I just reacted . . . I didn't have any time to think . . . it just kept movin' . . . and I was yellin', 'Stop!!! Stop!!!' . . . but it wouldn't stop . . . it wouldn't stop . . . it just kept movin' . . . . . . and I reacted . . . I just reacted . . . . . . and then there was my muzzle flash and this red mist . . . . . . this red mist that just erupted . . . and kind of hung there . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and then the woman wasn't screamin' . . . and I wasn't yellin' . . . . . . . . . and there was just this little boy . . . . . . . . this little boy, lyin' on the ground . . . . . . with this mush where his face used to be . . . . . . . . . . . and it was quiet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . so quiet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . until I heard this sound like nothin' I ever heard before . . . this kind of moan . . . this deep, hollow, primeval moan that kind of rumbled at first . . . . . . . . and then it grew louder . . . and louder . . . and the pitch got higher and higher . . . . . . until it turned into this ferocious gut-wrenchin' shriek that filled my head and reached way down and ripped my insides out . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and every day I try to put that boy back together in my mind . . . . . . I try to see his face . . . but I can't . . . . . . . . . . . . I can't see his face . . . . . . and I can't get that sound out of my head . . . . . . . . . . . . every single day . . . . . . . . . . . . and all I can see is my muzzle flash . . . and that mist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . that godawful red mist."

Surely
your eyes smile like
sunflowers in August
dropping their seeds
from skyscraper heights
as you hang from your cross
nailed together by your own
rough-hewn hands
dropping their seeds
as the wind runs its fingers
through the weeds
windchiming like a
platinum-plated Joni Mitchell
and surely you touched mine
surely surely surely
and I wish like Christmas Eve
                      like a first junior high dance
                      like a death bed watch
that I could afford even
a bottle of you
but the demand for you is high
and the supply . . .
         well, you know, there's never enough
and you keep raising the price and
surely surely surely
                    you know, there's never enough
so I lie here
among the weeds
seeking out your seeds
some small, priceless part of you
as you rise out of my reach
                         like a house with a seaside view
                         like a villa in Tuscany
                         like gold
which you are
surely surely surely
you are
with your sunflower eyes
and your Christmas Eve wishes
you pay for my sins
dropping your seeds and
surely surely surely
                     you know, there's never enough

1970 Odysseus visits cousin Patsy in New York City she introduces him to her best friend Lauren’s older less attractive more reclusive sister Tanya Mulhaney extremely wealthy family father founded corporation manufactures pinball machines which years later develop to video games then casino empire he favors and spoils Tanya but dies suddenly her envious sisters and mother gang up on Tanya is pale skinny flat-chested copious brown bush Odysseus sits in bathtub with Tanya and he probes in a way they hits it off maybe no boy has ever touched her in that way her complexion is so fragile slightest fluster prompts pink blotches on her cheeks neck chest back he admires her book smarts he’s attracted to her refined strangeness he thinks her bush and flat-chest are **** she laughs shyly offers to take him around the world he accepts Odysseus tells his parents Mom goes crazy yells into telephone what are you a ******? you father and i work like fools to send you to the best schools so you can make something of yourself you’re going to throw everything away to be a ***? i tell you we’ll disown you you won’t have a home to come back to do you hear me? we’ll disown you! she sobs how can you just walk out after all we have done for you? you ******* kid! Odysseus takes leave of absence from art school he and Tanya take Iberia jet 12 hour flight with stopover in Iceland to Belgium Tanya sinks into one of her moods swallows several pills to help her rest sitting on other side of Odysseus is curly haired skinny talkative musician claims he has jammed with Miles Davis and other jazz greats Odysseus says yeah right and i’ve shown with Johns and Twombly where exactly are you heading in Europe? musician answers he is a scientologist on his way to visit L. Ron Hubbard in England Odysseus does not know what Dianetics are and wants explanation he asks many questions and musician talks for hours they enjoy each other’s rapport as jet descends in Brussels they exchange home addresses in the States 9 months later when Odysseus returns to America a friend notices scribbled address while skimming through his travel journals Odys! how did you get Chick Corea’s address? do you know him? do you realize how brilliant he is? he’s a keyboard virtuoso! Odysseus questions Chick Corea? who’s Chick Corea? he looks at journal page then says oh that guy i sat next to him on the jet to Europe so he really is a famous musician huh? wow!

in October 1970 Brussels is damp chilly Tanya wears hip-hugger jeans black turtle-neck top North Face shell she huddles her arms around her chest smokes cigarettes looks through hotel room window out into gray overcast sky speaks in defeatist voice i didn’t bring clothes for this weather she picks at her plate in hotel restaurant glumly vacillates later in bed after refusing *** decides they leave tomorrow fly to Canary Islands for several weeks to get tan before traveling through Morocco during winter months Canary Islands are laden with Swedish tourists including bikini clad young girls many not wearing tops Odysseus is thinking about how to swing some of that Swedish free love once Tanya gets drunk succumbs to Odysseus’s ****** overtures it is good  one day while returning to hotel from beach 2 Spanish police stop and question Tanya and Odysseus police order to see their passports then command them into squad car police bark in Spanish rifle through their daypacks point a finger Odysseus can smell alcohol on their breaths Tanya and Odysseus are terrified police drive off main road to remote location abandoned ruins no one is around police order them to step out police drive off laughing Tanya’s complexion is crimson she sobs they could have murdered us no one would know who we are or where to find us we’re lost where are we? Odysseus looks around replies don’t worry we’ll be all right i watched where the driver was going we’ll retrace their trail

they fly to Tangier travel south by train Tanya is irritable insisting Odysseus carry her backpack Casablanca is ***** 3 men peer from sunglasses act suspicious wear tattered trench coats Tanya and Odysseus snack at cafe which provides hookahs for smoking hashish Odysseus scores several grams Tanya laughs suggests they rent car drive south travel to sandy beaches of Diabet for 6 weeks in the morning she paces around French hotel room with cigarette in one hand ashtray in other like she is sultry 1940’s Hollywood actress she stays in room and devours Penguin Classics Tolstoy Stendhal Proust Huysmans Zola turns out Tanya is sexually frigid she buys Odysseus anything he wants but does not put out they take train Marrakech it is sun drenched with blue skies mountains in distance Odysseus wants to go out explore get ***** with the natives he visits Medina daily witnessing many bizarre scenes he does not understand a woman squatting over an egg a man with no legs dragging himself through marketplace holding up cigarette butts in his hand he meets a professor who is out of work because king of Morocco has closed the universities due to teachers’ strike professor explains woman squatting over egg is fortuneteller and man dragging himself has been offered crutches many times yet makes more money playing off pity of tourists cigarette butts are for sale the professor invites Odysseus to visit Berbers in mountains Odysseus persuades Tanya she reluctantly agrees the 3 travel by bus in first-class front row seats vehicle filled with lively families chickens pig bus driver has assistant who lugs people onto bus or shoves them out door at a midpoint bus stops in little town everyone exits bus then men women children urinate in street local venders sell trinkets snacks Odysseus buys nibbles shish-kabob that later professor informs is roasted cat and dog they reenter bus wait suddenly butchered lamb flank is flung onto Odysseus’s lap a man climbs aboard bus stairs then grabs large carcass and heedlessly walks to back seat Odysseus wipes blood and slime off his jeans Tanya demurely giggles bus climbs mountains arrives at small Berber village professor leads them along narrow winding street of shanty huts sheltering merchants open kitchens professor tastes from various steaming iron kettles finally decides on one they are directed to rickety roof where they sit wait a boy comes up with plastic bowl filled with water and small box of Tide following professor they wash their hands then minutes later proprietor brings up simmering *** of couscous serves it with scratched raw plastic bowls no eating utensils they eat with their fingers Tanya seems bothered declines to partake she withdraws into silence after meal she becomes irritable complains of headache says she needs to return to Marrakech she remains standoffish on bus all the way to French hotel

after Marrakech they take boat trip to Italy while onboard Odysseus meets Italian Count who has an eye for him Odysseus wears Jim Morrison beat-up leather jeans Bruce Lee t-shirt scraggly whiskers Count wears thin manicured beard tiny red Speedo swim trunks Tanya grins amused Count offers Odysseus and Tanya to be guests at his villa in Milan city flourishes with stylish clothes loud lively restaurants classical sculptures covered in car pollution following several weeks of aristocratic wining and dining amazing 11 course elegant soiree Odysseus botches compliance with Count’s desires they are asked to leave Tanya laughs hysterically they board train to Germany based on Tanya’s tour book they find historic hotel with wind rattling windows coin operated hot water bath in Munich Tanya stays in room Odysseus goes to dance club meets brown-hared pale skinned German girl neither speak the other’s language he pays for hourly rated room they play German girl in animated gesturing warns him as he is going down on her but he does not understand until several days later scratching beard finds ***** seeks A-200 lice treatment German version leather pants disposed Tanya knows but says nothing she buys Volkswagen they drive through Black Forest Tanya wants to visit King Ludwig’s castles Odysseus does the driving mostly they listen to the Who’s “Who’s Next” and Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” he follows Tanya’s instructions not knowing who King Ludwig was eventually he learns Ludwig was colorful character built extravagant Disney like castles and friends Richard Wagner Bavaria is cold gray brown deep forest green scenic Swiss Alps visible in southern view they drive from Neuschwanstein to Linderhof to Herrenchiemsee then Freiburg lodge in bed and breakfasts Tanya grows restless by all the driving decides to ditch car along road in northern France as Odysseus unscrews car license by road side several cars stop French people concerned they need help Tanya is anxious hoping for clean get away from abandoning vehicle they board train to Paris Tanya speaks a little French in spring of 1971 they are backpacking in search of hotel on Left Bank it rains all morning sky is overcast Tanya reads “Pride and Prejudice” Odysseus draws in sketchbook at sidewalk café sitting next to them are older Parisian couple man detects they are Americans he turns to them expresses in English his contempt why can’t you Americans learn from France’s lessons in Vietnam? Tanya and Odysseus don’t look up they feel like dumb ugly Americans within days they leave Paris

cross English Channel by boat they find temporary apartment in Earl’s Court in London it is overcast almost every day within a month they move to larger place in Chelsea with backyard with run down English garden Odysseus weeds garden plants tomatoes lettuce carrots radishes flowers Tanya stays in her room smokes reads at night they go out to ethnic restaurants one night they visit Indian restaurant a very proper English woman sitting at next table orders exotic fruit for dessert Odysseus asks waiter what kind of fruit waiter answers mango Odysseus has never seen or tasted mango English woman delicately eats the fruit with fork and knife Odysseus orders mango for dessert he attempts to imitate how English lady proceeded fruit slips around on plate finally out of frustration he picks it up in his hands bites into it he is aroused by how luscious mango is sniffing with nose scraping fruit’s skin with front teeth then ******* the seed Tanya makes a face suddenly the seed slides from his grasp shoots across table Tanya’s cheeks neck turn scarlet voice raises stop it Odys! you’re disgusting! are you intentionally trying to embarrass me? why are you doing this? he replies i’m not doing anything to you i’m enjoying the most delicious fruit i’ve ever tasted who cares what it looks like? later she laughs about incident offers to buy more mangos promises to take him shopping at Harrods tomorrow he goes along with their arrangement until it all seems like pretty background scenery to an empty intimacy missing all his friends back at art school he writes about his loneliness he feels trapped in Tanya’s web several times he sneaks English girls into his room when Tanya jealously confronts him he admits he has had enough and wants to go back to Hartford she suggests at the least they fly to Bermuda for several weeks to get tan before returning he declines on June 30 1971 Odysseus returns to Hartford and Tanya moves to San Francisco on July 3 Jim Morrison overdoses in Paris

Remember Mitchell Schumacher?
We all knew him.
Well, actually, his name wasn't Mitchell,
it was Michael,
but you know kids with their nicknames.
Playing video games until the sun comes up,
sleepovers, girls,
riding bikes all over town,
and down that old dirt hill;
it seemed the good times
would never end,
our innocence tying us
close together.

But now he's a cop
and I'm sitting in his jail cell.
My long hair and bag of grass
were no match for his
shiny, metal badge and shaved head.
I asked him about that Game Boy
I left at his house all those years ago
as he sat me in the back of his car
and told me to watch my head.
He looked at me
and laughed.

We used to know him.
Remember Mitchell Schumacher?

Very small and hardly seen
Fens are where you've always been
seeking sedges for you to eat
lay eggs, feed, metamorphosis, repeat.
Without care and conservation,
we will destroy fen feeding and breeding stations
and so we also lose the few
Mitchell's Satyr butterflies too

A TRIBUTE TO HELLO POETRY

This will be a long write.
There are so many I wish
to honor and thank.

Please, if you can, pull up
Bruce Cockburn's song
Maybe the Poet on YouTube.
Listen to the words as you read this.
It will greatly add to your enjoyment.

I play no favorites...
you ALL are class acts!

Here's a tribute. Yep. It's long!
But listen to Bruce Cockburn's song.
I want to emulate what's sung
Yes, not miss a poet, one!

ryn has got a range of art
Ded Poet's got a poet's heart
elsa angelica's soul resounds
Bhumika's a dove
with a golden crown!

Wolfspirit's pen can spill his love
Wonderman's ink from up above
sjr...1000 words so wise
Scarlet Pimpernel's talent's
not disguised!

Joe Malgeri's a spiritual gent
Paige Pots' work is heaven sent
Tivonna has love for natural things
Helena's work has roots and wings!

Pradip, in my eyes number one
as is Thomas A Robinson
jeffrey robin's style is loose and bold
Rupal has a heart of gold!

John Stevens has an earthy wit
Pax means peace, his candle's lit
Tryst's ballads are a perfect fit
and I love Lidi Minuet!

donna's sweet as honeydew
Jason Cole fits like a shoe
Prttybrd sings songs with style
Day Wing flies! He has a smile!

Deborah's walking on her beach
her talent has a range and reach
Rapunzel let's her hair way down
Weeping Willow
has a pleasant sound!

Joe Cole loves all fantasy
SSilkenTounge has a mind that's free
Solaces is a very old friend
I hope to see Botan again!

Urmilla writes beyond her years
Chalsey Wilder writes bring tears
Tonya Maria and I share pain
Wise is K Balachandran!

CA Guifoyle lives in my town
Adam Childs' the best around
SE Reimer can put us in the mood
Musfiq us Shaleheen
Is so VERY good!

Richard Riddle honors with poetry
Love my collab, Arcassin B!
Sally A Bayan's good and kind
Hayden Swan's a real find!

Love comments from Joe Adomavicia
zik, I'm always glad to see ya!
TGWLY has a heart that hurts
Erenn Y does heartfelt works...

Elizabeth Squires has classic writes
Frank Ruland's fights
for what is right
And if a scare you want to see
just look up POETIC T!

Oh! There are SO many more!
There are poets by the score!
I don't want to be a bore
But read them ALL! You will be
FLOORED !!!

MORE POETS!!!

Lori Jones McCaffery
Kalypso
Niamh Price
Mya Angel
Mike Hauser
Vicki
Ignatius Hosiana
Frankie J
Chris Green
mark cleavenger
brandon nagley
Winn
Puds (Pete)
Deborah Brooks Langford
Timothy
Marian
Hilda
Harriet Tecumsah Watt
it's gonna make sense
mybarefootdrive
Dark n Beautiful
WL Winter
Margaux
Pamela Rae
Venusoul7
Eddie Starr
Olivia Kent
Brenden Thomas
Zoe
Raj Arumugam
Elijah
Sukeerti
Manny
M.A.N
Jonny Angel
Dylan Mitchell
James M Vines
bulletcookie
i am miss brightside
Chris Fracc
Cat
Ocean Blue
Phil Lindsay
Mike Hauser
PearlSy
Christi Michaels Moon Flower
Raj Nandy
SPT
PoETEPETE Now RePETE After PETE
Makayla Kelly
Paul Gafney
Nan Trapp Messer
Chloe
Steven Langhorst
Daniel Palmer
Chris Smith Dark Poet Soul
C A Guilfoyle
TRAVELLER
Soul
GitacharYa VedaLa
Rosalind heather Alexander
S R Matts
Paul Gattney
Danny Mak
patty m
liv frances
Gary L
Ngamau Boniface
IOWA
Earl Jane
ber
Justin G
James
ste'phanie noir
born
Aztec Warrior


Last but not least... olestoryteller
and Francie Lynch! Ketoma Rose!