wild truth the days of madness have been fully integrated into routine this is madness the repetition in hope of difference when it is all around us growing incremental change your eyes and ears nose and mouth open the pores back up to the phenomena surging through the flesh of the world i need not recall i am still in these days to which you harp back in your letters surely you recognise that your family has rescued your from your self destructive behaviour from which trauma are they born have you gone there yet on that journey of rediscovery for you know it well you were there it happened before i came along i have only been privy to the self made self served solutions whiskey cannonballs on the balcony in the afternoon sun challenging sleep with a typewriter on the lap
