The worst of them, swine. The best, swineherds. That
scapegoating species, man. Blame me, blame me; I only hold up the mirror. Truth
serum (a little wine). They have seen it themselves, in themselves and in others.
But it’s what I’m best at, showing them what they already know. Wine, swine. Wallowers in self-pity, delusion. Put a pretty name on it, then; call it desire, if that
makes it seem noble. You are your own lost cause. You could choose to avoid
this island, but no.
[do you know gentle]
one leaf at a time
these last days
wind rise
ReplyDeletethis rusted leaf blown away
times voyage