April is the cruelest month

I finally got to say “But you’re too much of Assisi even for Francis.” I waited 30 years for the set up. Suddenly there it was. Bam. Big laugh. But now what? Emptiness. So I sit upon the shore fishing, with the arid plain behind me. Shall I get my shit together? Nah. The piece that pisseth all understanding, in big letters in the dust:

Shanti shanti shantytown.



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