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Summer 2008
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Jan Hansen
is a mysterious poet who lives in
Algarve, Portugal. We don’t know why
someone with a
Scandanavian name lives in Portugal, how he came to be there, or what he does
besides write oddly sad and funny prose pems.
After the Meeting (resentment)
At the AA meeting, my dog,
I had taken her with me as support,
looked around and went over to a tall, elegant man with a wave
of white hair and refined air (I’ve none) and sat there looking up
to him adoringly. On the way home I told her to sit in the back.
This confused her as she usually curls up on the seat beside me.
There was an awkward silence; her ears were up, knew something
was wrong: “So you think I’m bad; let me tell you this; that man
is a doctor and kills people when he’s drunk and performs heart
surgery.” Not addressing the dog directly, but I said no more as
I sounded ridiculous. Back home I drank vodka with cola light
and ice. The dog had to sleep outside, on the terrace.