Creery was ever the man of his age. I interviewed him on the many infinities he had immeasurably’d.

Who was your favorite celebrity? The unknown soldier.

I hear you slept with Martha Gellhorn? Big exagg. She wrote to me. What about? She was all abominated I’d tell on Reagan about AIDS so she hollered at me like I was foreseeing covid just about and that. What she smart? She was just awful.

Did you meet Ted Kennedy? Heard him speak. Lowered a flag to half-mast. Same difference.

Meet any Jews? Just Potok.

Famous women? Took Ming Na Wen out. How dat go? She all pleased. She obviously found me suspicious for not even trying to kiss her. I paid dearly for that.

Get published big? Yeah. I got in Cineaste and Chinook coupon book.

Graduated? Yup.

Meet Gurdiev? One of his dopeys I did. No.

The dude as did vocals for Popeye? No.

Bowie? Two his guitarists. Are they the ones as did met Mengeles? I think that was my ear doctor. For real? Yeah, I think so. There were tattoos in my hood.

Anyone important? Not really. Yevtushenko, maybe.

Like any them prize arse people? Yeah, Steve Glass or something was okay. I forget his name: different trains and beyond. Peter Max reminded me of Roger Anliker. Ralph Abernathy took my hand. That was profound as it gets. Nobody remembers him now but it was good.

How bout those as gotta slay? One of them had to see my noodle. He followed me into bathrooms until he got a peak.

Who they git to slay about you? All kinda big importants. It got weird. Anything I’d say Louie’d be that makes me twist my ankle! How come? Uhn, JFK was the devil or something.

You paranoid schizo! Say it ain’t thfo.

I hear your stuff is worth money! That’s what it is, huhn?

Did you do something important? Invent pussyball or something? Nah.

Anyone you’d like to meet? My plan is more an evasion strategy. There are some worthless worthies I could definitely see doing without crossing paths with. Like who? Bob Dylan, I guess is certainly one.

Miss anybody this Memorial Day? Hmm. Roberto Clemente.