I Am The Dragon, And

In The Vaults Of Our Hearts And Brains, Danger Waits. All The Chambers Are Not Lovely, Light And High. There Are Holes In The Floor Of The Mind, Like Those In A Medieval Dungeon Floor - The Stinking Oubliettes, Named For Forgetting, Bottle-shaped Cells In Solid Rock With The Trapdoor In The Top. Nothing Escapes From Them Quietly To Ease Us. A Quake, Some Betrayal By Our Safeguards, And Sparks Of Memory Fire The Noxious Gases - Things Trapped For Years Fly Free, Ready To Explode In Pain And Drive Us To Dangerous Behavior.

I Collect Church Collapses, Recreationally. Did You See The Recent One In Sicily? Marvelous! The Facade Fell On Sixty-five Grandmothers At A Special Mass. Was That Evil? If So, Who Did It? If He's Up There, He Just Loves It, Officer Starling. Typhoid And Swans - It All Comes From The Same Place.

I Have No Interest In Understanding Sheep, Only Eating Them.

The Very Air Had Screams Smeared On It. He Flinched From The Noise In This Silent Room.

It's Hard To Have Anything Isn't It? Rare To Get It, Hard To Keep It. This Is A Damn Slippery Planet.