secretly(inside his head)

he rifled bookshelves in peoples homes

in a deliberate attempt to assess if their literary  nonfiction interests

or those tomes that comprise their antilibraries(books unread) might jive with his own

inevitably  it was a fascinating exercise 

outwardly  people might not reflect themselves

or they were exactly who they appeared

he never tired of the inquisition

and no one ever died for perceived inequities

they hadnt been living there very long

just inside a year which coincided with absences for contracts outside the country

yet they had established three separate bookcases along the walls of their livingroom

and per subtle asks he learned they also had a bookcase in their bedroom holding books nearest and dearest them

they divvied their books between shelves by subject matter

                                                                                                biology astronomy science

as for a few blatant outliers

science dominated the largest and tallest bookshelf which stood on the wall that lead into the hallway to their bedroom and bathroom

off the dining area  at the back of a third chair its back to the livingroom  beneath a long picture window  was a low shelf that contained miscellaneous books

on its far left  laid on its side atop commensurately bound books  was a light gray volume

on its spine  written top to bottom so that it could be read as it lay  was Wild Kuche

Wild Kuche arrested him

It took his imagination hostage

--   Wild Cooch

he said absently  and aloud

 

--   Excuse me

--   The book  Wild Cooch . . .

--   Kuche . . .

--   Idve thought thatd make the bedroom stack . . .

--   Its not what you think

--   Please dont correct what I think

This is delicious

This story is better for it

Itll be far far better if we let my imagination remain unhinged  unsatisfied

--   Youll attach my name our names to it

--   Hell no

No proper names or sex                                                                                                                 

Youll simply become He-Who-Has-Wild-Cooch

like a Native Indian name

I have no problem protecting guilty or innocent sources

All I intend to do is drop the title in mixed company and step away as the incited flames and conflagration grows

Youre immaterial

Aint like youre walking around wearing a t-shirt touting Wild Kuche

You couldnt  sorry to say  not that youd fight me on this  pull off a Wild Kuche t-shirt

I could                           

Though for all the wrong reasons

My reputation precedes me

like a crazed ape on a discomforting chain 

Its soiled

Your reputation

on the other hand

is safe with me

Wild(Kuche cringed as he heard it) horses couldnt tear it away from me

Not your name

Not out of me                    

Wild whores . . . I might break

Though typically I do my best not to be aligned or find myself among amidst  or in the comfort of wild whores . . . rooting for truffles . . or Jerusalem chokes .

You can trust me

I think you know that

--   Its Kuche

not cooch

--   Im not picking up the inflection

A cooch is a Kuche is a cooch

 --   I suppose theres no arguing the point

--   None 

--   Call me He-Who-Has-Wild-Cooch

Sunday afternoon,  22  3. 15

1928,  Monday,  30  3. 15