Love, unconquerable,Waster of rich men, keeperOf warm lights and all-night vigilIn the soft face of a girl:Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor!Even the pure immortals cannot escape you,And mortal man, in his one day's dusk,Trembles before your glory.
Morpheus' gifts used to come to me in bottles, Beam and black Jack Daniel's, straight up with a frosted schooner of Jax on the side, while the rain poor down in the neon glow outside the window of an all-night bar not far from the Huey Long Bridge. In a half hour I could kick open a furnace door and fling into the flames all the snakes and squeaking bats that lived inside me. Except the next morning they would writhe with new life in the ashes and come back home, stinking and hungry.A Morning for Flamingos (1990)
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