True, I wasn’t with the Kerouacs or Cassidys, riding and driving in cross country orgies of food, booze, a few women (very few women), Buddhism and ...oetry, no I was too much in the midst of my disillusionment with Rod McKuen to know about beat poetry. I stood in line that October, not knowing that just a year later, the woman I waited to see would take her blanket into her car and go to sleep forever while still parked in her garage. I only knew it was Anne, Anne Sexton, and though I didn’t. ‘Oh that’s okay Danny, I’m just about finished here,’ Ellen replied. Danny had already poured the lotion in his hands and approached Ellen as she knelt tending to her flowers. Danny began to spread the lotion on Ellen’s back and she froze as for the first time in years male hands touched her bare skin. Ellen knelt perfectly still as Danny covered her shoulders and back with the lotion. A few times he got dangerously close to the side of Ellen’s breasts peeking out of the halter top. Ellen felt. More

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