Brother Number One Reflects   But in another life I would have made movies, comedies, would have starred in them, too — me, a little jungle tramp, Comrade Sar, charming, every move a wordless gem, every sigh a violin, every wink a trombone . . . I know you would have loved me that way. But the people needed me. Think of those pigs who ran things before — and seethe at the memory of their cars, their faits accomplis, their command of the king’s ear, their women. We had to eliminate them. And those dog-people in the east, hear them howling now. We put the truth above all else — this is history, this is love.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont June 2010