back in the bygone it was all lumpy gravy served hand to mouth but I rarely went without I fought bitterly for every morsel that fell from the big table what’s in a man’s blood that makes him so combative? I cultivated mostly clean thoughts in my mostly clean mind but I still dredged up the filth from time to time there were nameless troubles fomenting behind my back I had the fear on something chronic a man can’t live like that he can only slowly die I had to get a new gimmick or maybe a change of skin I have the power to do that I can always change my skin
No comments:
Post a Comment