i am of two parts, the day and night. in the light i burn with guilt from deeds long since expired and those that have never passed; i move through the hours a simpleton, ignoring the calling and the hunger, sweating out each movement on the clock until the night arrives and in the dark…

have you found your morphine drip, father, have you clawed your way at last from the terrors of that jungle, that deep conflict, where so many souls did burn and congeal again as lost principles in the napalm of your breath, did you war your way to heaven where the fathers of our fathers were…