Eleana: Late in the great hippie summer of 1969, I was on the north shore of Crete, travelling with the girl in the poem. We were staying in a town called Malia. The north shore of Crete was totally undeveloped then, no hotels or tourists. The meltemia blew every day. Meltemia was also the name of a coffee shop on Mykonos where we met. The word has stuck in my mind ever since.

Honorary Schizophrenic. Recent refugee. Displaced person. Old white male. Confidant of cassowaries.

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