For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. She missed them already. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. “Listen,” she said. All right really. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much. He had a blue overstuffed couch, his own television, even a computer with its own desk. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. I was pretty strong for a four-year old! She was so mad that she spanked me with a belt until my butt was raw and bleeding. . ’ ‘She told you!’ ‘And,’ pursued Gerald, ignoring his friend’s scornful interjection, ‘that it was not always convenient to be dressed as a young girl.
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