Guido Michelini showered in the basement of Grand Central Station. Two quarters in the turnstile for a torn towel and a piece of soap with hair on it. He wasn’t a bona fide bum. The night before he had $400 in crisp new $100 bills … Continue reading Black python
Guido Michelini came to these shores and sated himself with a hundred whores. A good reporter but a total flake he left job after job in a wild wake. But he kept writing this one damn novel and ended up in a wretched hovel. Unkempt and … Continue reading Guido Michelini — an update
They drank and they did drugs and they had sex with anyone they fancied, it was the 1970s, who didn’t! And then to everyone’s surprise they got married. As the years went by he found out that she had been to bed with some of … Continue reading Sex, drugs and marriage
He travelled a long way to get here. Ten thousand miles on a cargo ship. He was twenty years old. He waved goodbye to his mother and his friends on the dock. His mother was crying. She turned and walked quickly away. He wanted to … Continue reading Loneliness, a beginning