An apology for the Devil--

To Vietnam, to roaring places of tidal waves, of burned letters, and of those imaginary poker hands.
And if a place may never come into existence, there will always be the running of faucets and dead leaves dropping from dead trees.
To the hills on the other side of the Great fire,
I'll leave you be,
to create the dearly needed space of childrens fantasy and of adults chagrin
I think I can recall two words, not in particular order
making an abuntance of sense
at least

at one point.

II

A dream for a single footstep
cracked sidewalks will always remind us of our mothers backs
If St. Chrysostom was right in saying,
if those people are ever right,
Hell is paved with the skulls of priests.