Shell Game

Shell Game Sh. and B. in the Green Kangaroo or whatever that hippyish restaurant on CommAv across from the Department was called - divulged with many a sad downcast look and a paused sip of espresso that you'd made a pass at P. What they didn't say: you and Sh. On a couch. Every week. In your office.

First and Second Acts

First and Second Acts The famous poet A., who helped you, along with famous poet S. and not as famous poet G., who disliked you on principle, got drunk at the Ritz in town. (A. parked at the loading dock and said it was okay because they were going to get loaded.) Sh., B. and I drank instead at Grendel's Lair and took public transport. Sh. sexed you. B. adored you. I love-hated you. The play goes on.

Warning

Warning After Friday class, B. no longer had sex with her husband When I grew sad and looked grumpy, she said, "Have fun with it. Don't sweat. I go to all his readings." She and her husband divorced twenty years later.