PERIPETATIC FAULTS OVER INDIGINOUS EDGINGS
Back in university school, when I held a gun to
my own head, I realized that there's only one shot
to glory. If done wrong, I'd be a vegetable. Like
the doctor said to the father broccoli, about the
wounded son's prognosis: 'You son will live, but
he'll be a vegetable for the rest of his life.'
-
I can't shake doubt and pain and horror I can't relax,
even where the water meets the land - the large
expanses of water and beauty which are supposed
to bring ease and comfort. Do people live like this
all the time? Sometimes I feel I can't go on. Other
times, it's just a feeling of 'Don't stop me now!'
-
Those things are the upper reaches of space and
glory; sensations of a generous time.
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