Thoreau Bound by Michael Pastore

Author:Michael Pastore [Pastore, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780927379687
Publisher: Zorba Press
Published: 2019-11-30T20:00:00+00:00

30

Change Is Good

Penelope raised her arms then covered her tremendous breasts by draping them under a white T-shirt, a gift from Lady Loverly which in large red letters said:

Problems, problems, days and nights

If what you hold has balls or bytes.

Concentrating intensely, Kosmos regarded the woman’s form. Beauty always inspires. A brilliant new idea bedazzled his inventive mind.

“You know, Thoreau, when Pericles — the Greek version of your Thomas Jefferson — ruled Athens, the finest prostitutes in his city were never despised, they were honored and adored. What was the greatest danger to the stability of Athenian society? ... Adultery. And the solution to adultery? Prostitution. Whoredom relieves boredom: it preserves the family while satisfying the wandering lusts of men.”

Kosmos sipped the cider then carried on.

“How could an amorous man recognize our Hellenic harlots? Large wooden phalluses, even bigger than my own monster, protruded from the doors of the ancient brothels. As for the objects of desire themselves, many of the women wore sandals, carved on the bottoms so that they impressed letters on the dirt paths that spelled two words: ‘Follow me.’”

Glancing at Penelope, Kosmos took a deep breath then sighed.

“Have you noticed the way Penelope walks, without even thinking about walking, and the effect this motion has on men like me? From every pore of her luscious body — legs, thighs, hips, cheeks, back, shoulders — Penelope shouts ‘Follow me!’ every time she moves. Where did she learn to walk and talk like that, so full of meanings without any words! Maybe there’s a whore in every good woman, and a good woman in every whore. ... But Penelope is not a prostitute — she sleeps with men who love her and men she loves. Explain it all to me, Thoreau, this mysterious power called desire! It rules even the gods. And in this whole world, what man and which woman is immune?”

He laughed at his own wild thoughts.

“But here I go again, getting distracted by the first good-looking body that passes by, and never getting anything accomplished. We were discussing, my dear old-fashioned Thoreau, the subject of changing women. I will take Irene and you will take Penelope. Change is good, Thoreau. Change rejuvenates a man: it forces us to be alert, to think fresh, to solve new problems creatively.”

“Kosmos! Kosmos! It’s not too late!”

I wrapped a blanket around Irene at the same moment that a stout guest ran through the blanket-doorway and into the living room. Rakis was his name and he was built like Heracles. His height and his broad shoulders filled up the room, and suddenly the spacious dwelling seemed to shrink to dollhouse size. Bearing the body, neck, and head of a hard-working laborer — sailor, builder, miner, wrestler, piano-mover — this brute man had eyes that strangely glimmered with the depths of human misery.

He carried three suitcases in one hand and a fistful of Euros in the other. Ignoring the curvaceous Penelope and the slender Irene, he ran unswervingly to Kosmos. Rakis had a plan.

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