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Perry Glasser |
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I write out of certain convictions no longer universally accepted and, in some circles, under attack; that the purpose of the Arts is to illuminate and enrich the human experience; that however dark, unknown, changing and inchoate, a universal human experience exists; that human experience can and even must be communicated across the lines of our obvious physical differences; that the product of the Artist must be readily accessible to an audience; and that while the expression of the Artist embodies the essence of a time, the Artist speaks to and for an audience beyond that.
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publishers’ inquiries are invited |
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from SATAN TAKES 12 STEPS Satan comes to our Thursday night meeting. He sits in the back, close to the door. We all know what that’s like. We have all been there. First-timer jitters. You sit. You smoke. You listen. Maybe you come back. Most don’t. But this is Satan. You have to wonder. Two weeks go by. We figure we are okay. But then Satan shows up again. Don’t ask me why Thursday. Don’t ask me why our meeting. No one can be turned away, right After the meeting, we break down the chairs, and then Marge and me go for coffee. Two blocks from the Hall, under the el they serve the coffee in a small, steel pot. Real china. The cups are sometimes chipped, but they use saucers. It’s a nice place. Marge says, “What do you think, Louis? Why is Satan at our meeting?” I remind her that everyone has a reason, but no one needs to give one. When he is ready, the Devil will tell us why he attends our Thursday night 12-step meeting for degenerate gamblers. She nods. “Eight to five he is up to no good.”
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