Confused? So was he! In the latest dream the frames of his glasses
could be converted to a full-sized radiation helmet. He needed help
     to see, help to lie down
     through the night.

What was the L-bomb? The threat of it was real, though it would never
bulldoze mankind, rather it would manoeuvre him further and further
     into mad wilderness, wilder
     madness, trees that bare human hearts.

Planted in a hushed and tender place no one would suppose—
the girl at the bar reading Hugo, drinking wine. Her courteous
     refusals, subtle dismissals,
     going off, a blood storm, going off.

—PAUL VERMEERSCH

(Originally published summer, 2002.)