Because you had a very round face. Because it seemed as if you were primarily composed of circles except for baby Dracula teeth. Because you were the child who was placed in a ramshackle playpen on Thanksgiving; wearing only a diaper. Later in the evening, you were given a turkey leg. This kept you happy for a long time, but at some point you held out your fat greasy hands in supplication: Please get me out. Sometime you were ignored, and sometimes somebody--- your mother, your sister, your grandmother would pick you up and wipe you down. Because of all this--- in those days, those very early days, your nickname was Beabock: The second brother. You were thus anointed on the front porch of a house dominated by a colony of mice.
Rise brother, rise up Beabock, and accept this honor. Rise up and acknowledge that yes you are Beabock. With one tooth, shaped like a fang. Your face so round, often accompanied by drool, always happy for a walk in the wooden stroller; strung with beads across the front. I wonder, brother, if you remember the color of those beads, because I do. As your older sister, brother, I do. I do remember the color of those beads--- they were different shades of blue. But Beabock was your name. And I believe that all children should be anointed in this way. From an older sister. Finally, it seemed inevitable that you would collect beer cans from around the world in high school. Beabock Rules. Beabock: The Second Brother.
Creator and co-author of the award winning The Erotica Project. Author of erotic short stories published on Salon.com. Producer/author for NPR. MA from NYU. Published by Cleis Press, Seal Press, Heinemann Press, New York Press. Reviewed in NYTimes, Village Voice, Art in America, London Sunday Times.