We All Need A Past

I Can Remember The Lush Spring Excitement Of Language In Childhood. Sitting In Church, Rolling It Around My Mouth Like Marbles--tabernacle And Pharisee And Parable, Tresspass And Babylon And Covenant.

The Past Is Our Ultimate Privacy; We Pile It Up, Year By Year, Decade By Decade, It Stows Itself Away, With Its Perverse Random Recall System.

If People Don't Read, That's Their Choice; A Lifelong Book Habit May Itself Be Some Sort Of Affliction.

Wars Are Fought By Children. Conceived By Their Mad Demonic Elders, And Fought By Boys.

History Unravels; Circumstances, Following Their Natural Inclination, Prefer To Remain Ravelled.