* * * King * * *
"Werewolf Conscience. (Little Lowell)"
Having Saint Michael cruelly remove the wolf-like spirit in my poetic books was blasphemy. I understand that now; alas, my further pulsating prose will focus on the charming conscience of the quasi-canine, knowing there resides a struggle within--a sincere urge to embrace sublimity save around vampirish thirst.
And none of my books have displayed blood-suckers, though the titles may make one assume such.
Never hunted a day in my life--fished in the Atlantic, Arkansas, and Tennessee. The haunt remains due to a cursed digestive tract. 15 years of losing blood and physical anguish. And the witches--holy shit. Past encounters with dissolute females able to, with much mercury, render a man infertile.
Wonder: self-sufficiency & a social life. Neurotic, yet late 90's half-hour comedies offered comedic pause and still enchant. Too, vertical leap @ 14 was 34 inches. But after 2 fractures freshmen year--went into exile, enduring long travels to home of my Grandparents, their Old Country, Serbian/German Eyes sparkling with unearthly worry and wisdom. Need a beer now . . .
