

Oh Lord Poseidon, Why do you so forsake The daughters of Phorcys? My sisters are now lost to me. My queen, your lover Medusa, was Made a monster by cruel Athena
And murdered by her champion Perseus;
The other, youngest sister Stheno,
Lies shattered at my feet, Turned to stone by our sisters dead gaze And crushed beneath
Hermes adamantine blade. And I, oh tortured Euryale am I, was left here-
Lifeless stone imprisoning an
Immortals raging spirit. Oh great Poseidon, Lord of the seas, I beg you-hear my cries! Releas


As I stand here, watching the elephant who rides the tricycle, a photographer steps in my way. Hes just like the others, and sees a boy with one arm, an older look-a-like, and a scrawny, flea-bitten dog. I wouldnt be here if it wasnt for my brother, who has taught me to do all sorts of things with one arm to keep myself in the business and earning money. Kipling, here, is just as old as me, but a little smaller and a little more warn. To try to make me feel better in front of the Beasts of the World Magazine photographer, Roland tries to hold my hand. Too bad I dont have one.
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