Prose: Of Friends In Hell The kindest were the patients, the honesty was founded in the needy, the integrity rested in the eyes of the wounded, and the truth relied upon the presence of evil.

As always, friends emerge in the strangest of places. This piece, and my efforts in general, are dedicated to Chris Blackwell, Philip, Ruth, Tim, Kenny, Ruby F., Devon, Janice, Josh V., Josh two, William, Jasmine, Joe G., Tyrone, Theo, Clyde, Kris, Melissa A., Edward, Virginia, Lucy, Ken M., Noreen, Iris, Brian one, Brian two, Rodney A., James M., Andy B., Thomas B., Elaine, Thomas two, Talina, Carl, Donny P., William, Michele, Brian, Francesca, David A., Constance, Jesus "Ricky" Murietta, Wendy, George one, Vince, Mark, Roberts one-three, Steve one, Abigail, David H., Randy, Natalie, Larry, Amber L., Alex, Rich, Janice, Chris T., Jerry, Mr. Director, George two, Steve two, Tim, Franky-Mary A., Pete, Edmond L., Larry, Roger B., Cathy, Rich, Mike.... People who touched me so strongly, as being angels somewhat hidden in the closet of their respective mental complications; each of whom, via the influence of stabilizing medications or whatever else was keeping them stable (at times, sometimes oft', sometimes not) within the realm of The Arizona State Hospital, set themselves as far higher beings than the evil mongers who have been granted by their relatively superficial professional qualifications- vs. ethical character- the absolute privilege to impose themselves on the needs of our loved ones. For that's what it is, you know, nothing short of privilege to be allowed by family or morally balanced citizens or state policy or the very air of our planet to share the thoughts and hearts of Arizona's most at risk adults. 


A little girl reached for the stick
but it struck her instead
and she died of a snake bite:
a copperhead going for the eggs.
                  (from"orchard" self pjreed 1989)

early morning sailors/we came together

they came by
day after day
often announced
my welcome was taken for granted
by me, so I always made my way in
to their respective houses
as though we had been there for time
eternal is the strength of pain
and happiness is the price of love
which came to me there                                   
in the strangest of places                                                
but in truth, no farther from home
than the lake down the hill-
birchwood, crystal, mountain-
any one of the three                                                                  
defines the trail where we met.
                          (self pjreed 2012)

notes:
   -beth 1993 photo oriole b


paoloreed@gmail.com