Look down.  Heavier now.  Onus of observable spectrums.  A body resounds.  It waxes.  It hoards ammunition.  O alas.  My lights are not what they are monitored to bide in.  They are mercantile and elegant prey.  Subsist on the inward motion of laborious practices.  A stricter practice.  And the Arab inside is a kind of knight in armour or old Protestant crawling to get into secondary light.  Rides a secret channel not unlike a flashlight beams its arrogant ray upon you.  Hide, hide from your own face.  Then consider what it is you recoil from.  Politics, if such a hinge exists in a random universe.  Alive & still.  Not to depress my native eyeballs but understand how such a game exists called back to roost already warmed over nihilism.  Get up & out or spake as the Messiah doth.  Back again to bid time trumpet you are already born and dead Hosa’na! (“save us”).  Compassion hath a note in here.  What’s wrong to take a hand, shake a hand & kiss the lady when she’s down.  On the other hand: morbid, oblique, tired of waiting for missiles to fire off (please never go off).  Writing you from a foxhole way down under under a moonless desert.  Would-be scholar get your cerebrum out here.  Respond, or something to that effect what means are required what tableau vivants.  What are the taboos around here?  Do not swear at the higher powers & keep your suffering to yourself.  Seasonal displays are mounted.  I heard Frankie Boy warbling in a lobby in Detroit decked with pine & pink satin bows.  I heard high soprano Noël notes careening down an even longer corridor like a scream.  Neighbors light a menorah.  The newspaper says Moslems are on the move and we do not care as a populace, “to discuss religion.”  I meant to tell you about the weaponry, the scorn, the flag-waving.  How it’s a threat it’s a fret but confusion is like the metabolic street.  Been out there lately?