It's where we keep our sins and our shames, our regrets, secret sufferings, weaknesses, doubts, perversions, also fear and loathing It's easy to do (believe me it's true;)
I am weary of pain, weary of sickness and weary of strife, weary of thickness, at times of very life I weary of all the sound and the fury, the T.V. fiends that lie like truth;
Different people have different opioids: modernity all but requires them Religion's the opioid of believers, immorality the greedy opioid of deceivers sports are the opioid of the hooligan,
It's university football games where generals command, helmeted warriors clash, and the worst damage is a few concussions It's multi-cultural porn mags with censored covers,
My muse is not a lovely lady, but a hulking, monstrous creature, slightly barnacled from his trips across the oceans, his skin red and calloused from long walks through deserts,