Liberty’s freed the death of verse,
But all emerge diminished,
When philistine muttering tries to mend by uttering.
“It’s not finished.” complained Belly.
“Now it is,” he said calmly and took a sip of his Whisky.
Belly looked confused, then shrugged and returned to sipping
her beer.
I was happy to see Tree mixing with my associates and prodded
him to drink more and share more of his verse. After much goading,
he came out with a love sonnet by Atlas, Greek god of the earth
regarding Demeter, goddess of the harvest. He put one hand on his
chest and theatrically extended his other arm while reciting:
Holding up the heavens,
She finds my physique stunning,
Though her waters fall, I’ve got blue ball,
And left Demeter running.
Those of us who got the gist of the poem clapped and whooped, and
those who didn’t understand it cheered along so as not to look
ignorant. Pretty soon Tree was pleasantly drunk and everyone was
surprised that this guy who was supposed to be an axe-murderer was
actually a very gentle, friendly person.
In the middle of a fierce drinking game that involved high-speed
acrobatics with a ten-baht coin, the blonde American guy ran up to
our table and inquired whether or not we would all like to try some
“X.”
“You mean ecstasy?” said Hugo with a mouthful of beer.
“Yeah man. This is supposed to be really good stuff, too. Some
guys just brought it over from London. They said it’s good for a five-
hour peak! What do you say? It’s 750 baht per hit.”
“Whoa, that’s thirty dollars guy. I’m on a budget,” Hugo looked
perplexed. “But ecstasy would be incredible—what do you say
Helena, you want to get it on on X? You’ll see stars baby!”
“I always see stars, Hugo. You always want to screw on the
beach.”
“OK, you’ll see supernovas. I’m in. Who’s with me?”
Belly, Oscar, the Italian woman, Helen, and I all agreed to take
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
108
 |
 |
 |
 |