Disasters aside

Enough politics.
Back to poetry.

I've already started revising "My Brush Has My Name", and the first thing I did was take out the line that seemed to snag most people: "boar and lobster bloated parliament." You see, I carry one of those cool, black Moleskin notebooks(a gift from Blade), and I jot all kinds of nonsense in it. Things pop into my brain and I store them there as a little "image bank." I must've been flipping through it right before writing that poem because the image doesn't really fit. I had questioned it before, mainly because the vegetarianism of India--the Parliament may be bloated, but certainly not on boar. Chapatti? Well, maybe a few of them eat mutton... The two most asked questions of me in India were "Are you married?" and "Do you eat mutton?" Shows how unthinkable beefeating would be--too rude to even suggest, akin to cannibalism.

But "a lobster-and-mutton-bloated parliament" doesn't quite radiate the same decadence, huh? Either way, I canned it.

Someone asked about the Milk Powder Scam. I'm going to clarify that in my revision as well--there was no actually shoving or pushing involved in that. It was my first full day in Mumbai/Bombay and I'd already been approached by several hundred beggars wanting a rupee or two. That was overwhelming of course, especially since a sizeable percentage of the beggars (the woman with the monkey in the poem, a little boy who would not let go of my hand) were exhausting in their pursuit. So when these two little girls, geniuses of flattery and charm, told me they didn't want money,and in fact seemed insulted when I even implied they wanted money, told me that all they wanted was some milkpowder for their baby sister...I was sucker number one with a bullet. They were such likeable kids, and here they were wanting to save their little sister's life, and it must be true because what else are they going to do with milkpowder. True, I was shocked by the price, but I've never bought milkpowder before. Maybe it was a steal! And it seemed wrong to bargain while making such a generous gesture. Oh, Pete,you foolish, foolish man! Ugh, did I feel dumb when it all came together in my mind the moment they scampered away. A lesson. All I could hope was they got to keep some of the money for themselves, that the shopkeeper didn't beat them for every last smidgen of it.

Now that I've told that story, I do want to make clear that character in the poems is not ME. I mean, of course it's me, but it's really "me." As "the American." A person who consideredof getting his parents' dog's name engraved on the toothbrush, but thought that was too disrespectful and instead got this:

"Peter."

And that's a bag of Cheetos "Masala Balls." With one free Scooby Doo "Tazo."

There's also a lot of rupees there.