HOLY PRICE

 

 

Is there a holy price to be paid for these sins?  Well, that I don’t yet know and I would be remiss to claim otherwise.  I think the notebook itself is possessed of a magic that spurs me on to creation and a new work of art decorates the page.  The embellished language always seems to light a spark.  The grandiloquence of the word choice seems to hit its stride.  Time to recognize the beauty of the sound and the thought behind the word.  The greatest love poems are written to whores from infidels but no one else ever noticed.  It’s as discernible as Chaucer’s writing.  And the fixation on other cultures will ultimately fade away.  Fads don’t seem live very long lives but like moths and ants, they always seem to come back to haunt us again.  There’s always a place in the world for a good candy bar even in Budapest and Tijuana and I’m saying so once again.  The dialogues are clever.  We’re always looking for that sharp turn of wit.  Mencken and Twain constantly striving for the spotlight.  We will find the glare oppressive but we’ll seek it nonetheless.


we pay for the sins

forbidden love of a whore

casts us from Eden

into wilderness we go

seek answers nevertheless

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