The Old Endless Chain Of Love, Tolerance,

She Felt, As She Felt So Often With Murphy, Spattered With Words That Went Dead As Soon As They Sounded; Each Word Obliterated, Before It Had Time To Make Sense, By The Word That Came Next; So That In The End She Did Not Know What Had Been Said. It Was Like Difficult Music Heard For The First Time.

Light Black. From Pole To Pole.

Was I Asleep? Had I Slept?

They Never Lynch Children, Babies, No Matter What They Do They Are Whitewashed In Advance.

All Life Long, The Same Questions, The Same Answers.