Gratzi, from Maxine

Thank you for your thoughts; they comfort me like Patrick's large arms used to.
When I picture Pat Lockwood, and thanks to the humming songs dear Felix taught me, I have seen him standing in front of me several times,
I am reminded of a cauldron, boiling intensely, but a hard glazed exterior keeping everything inside. So many times, after long nights of story-telling and drinking wine, I would try to seduce him, but he would let himself go only so far and then he would put up walls around himself, and even with all my talent and skill I could not touch him.
Deep inside was curiosity and humor, and a passion for music and history. He would ask so many questions, and I would say “Later! Later!”
Now I wish I had told him so much more of our story, so he could have written it down for you, gracious visitors. So many were the good times together, and so few…

Why, Father, do you fuck with me?? Why give me a vagina if I get it in the ass all the time?? Why give me happy songs and only sad occasions ? I gave my daughter Mia to your daughter Sybian, and then to your prophet Felix, and what did I get back? Mia buried in a Mausoleum in Rosarno under the outrageous name of **********! and a husband and lover, friend and brother, teacher and rogue, who once again travels only by a smuggler’s moon, sleeping in many beds ---none of them mine. How dare you pass me by and give your gifts to a juvenilia genitalia such as Esperanza. She dances and fucks, dances and fucks, and counts on Emilio to get her out of jams.

Forgive me. Your way is best. It is this inferior wine speaking. I have not had a decent wine since I said to Patrick, sweet Patrick, “Ciao. I will see you soon.” I was counting on his help putting together the concert of Felix’s music. Do you not want that? Do you not want to see once again young boys and girls dancing across the stage in Sybaris, and disappearing into the orange groves? Do you not want to see mayors and priests and councilwomen faint in shock at what they see? Do you not want to excite them in their sleep as you did to Bishop Bassanni? Have you forgotten how we laughed as he snuck to his kneeler in the middle of the night, and moaning and groaning, all with so little pleasure? Can we not do that again? Bring back Felix and sound the trumpet and we will start the blood surging in the youths of Sybaris. Lead Esperanza to us! Give me new stories to tell Patrick.

O Father! I miss him so!!