Don’t try this at home but allegedly a potent Caribbean island spell requires the ritual slaughter of a white rooster. How does one find such a creature? I contemplated the tracking of a white cock and I wondered how much of a metaphor this is, just how elastic are the rules? Which reminds me of a lady who referred to herself as a ‘pedigree’. Not a beauty, but toned and groomed and with perfect champagne glass titties, she married her boss, a screamer named, what else, Dick. It was the 80s and the masters of the universe threw dinner parties for the new power couple. For a stretch she inhaled the heady froth of power and her inner ruthless side proliferated, like a virus. Dick and the Pedigree bred boys who would engorge from the interlocked toxic DNA. To my eye they promised to become little pricks. Then it was the 90s and in a slippery move the company was arbitraged and Dick was sent packing. Dick was no longer sought after by society. “This was not supposed to happen,” the Pedigree complained. Now Dick was just a raging screaming old, well, dick. They divorced. Now she lives with her clutch of college age chicks. Seeing as they are Caucasian I wonder how they would work as ingredients in the potent island brew?

Oh, and speaking of children…

After a couple of years teaching creative writing at the county jail I’ve decided I need more of a challenge, more of a thrill. I’ll keep going, of course, but I’ve decided to augment with the same template but for the kiddies at the Key West High School. After 74 school shootings in the past year alone, I know where the action is. Jail is the blues and high school is hip hop circa Tupac. Campus is where the real danger is. I’ve proposed myself and I’ll let you know if I get a response, watch this space!