And
so, I write about it all, my father, my mother,
my
two brothers, about Ramon and Luis, about
George,
Renate and Chondra, about my dogs,
my
drunkenness and hangovers, about John and
Helga,
about Greece, Italy and Germany, a whole
world
won and lost, the goddamn universe growing
apart,
exploding, about love, hate, injustice, flowers,
birds,
mountains, oceans, Ohio and Kansas, I write
about
Beethoven and Copland, about what has been,
what
could be, and that which never shall, about
opossum
and raccoon, about old age, wobbly legs,
forgetfulness
and pain, fleeting joy occasionally,
the
homeless, old bicycles, best friends, and the
Lone
Ranger come to save the day. Oh no, that was
Mighty
Mouse who promised but failed to do that.
-30-
Chris
Hanch 6-7-2020
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