“Verysoon hewill vanishcompletely in the wingsof his ownwordlessstanza. [ ]but hisstanzais notcompletelyempty[ * ]”

“Throughout the universeLife does wanderAppearing here and thereSometimes popping out of the woodworkOther times carried on the wingsOf Mercury and meteorites”

“An insane person believes his world is consistent. If hebelieves the government is trying to kill him, he will seeample evidence of his belief in the so-called real world. Hewill be wrong, but his evidence is no better or worse thanyour evidence that it rained this morning. Both of you willbe converting evidence of the present into impressionsstored in your minds and you will both be certain your evidenceis solid and irrefutable. Your mind will mold the factsand shape the clues until it all fits.”

“Mzatal gave a decisive nod. “I willmanage this. It cannot continue to interferewith his work. Too much is at stake.”I raised an eyebrow. “How do youintend to manage it?”“I will tell him the truth and outline theconsequences.”I was surprised Mzatal didn’t shrivelaway from the look I gave him. “Dude.Seriously? You expect him to stopcrushing on me because you forbid it?”Mzatal frowned, contemplative.“Perhaps not ideal given the entanglementof human emotions, though there is no timefor it to drag on,” he said, as if he actuallyknew what he was talking about. “If heknows you have no interest and sees howhis distractions have affected his work, hewill subside enough for now.”My withering look became glacial.“Boss, you’re completely awesome inmany ways, but you are so off-base withthis it’s not even funny.” I rolled my eyes.“I’ve already ramped ‘No Interest’ up toeleven on the dial and, at this point, hedoesn’t care if his work suffers.” I took abig gulp of coffee, then ran my fingersthrough my tangled hair. “Let me deal withit. Normally I’m not into directconfrontation with this sort of shit, butthere’s isn’t enough time for it to fizzle outon its own.”Mzatal regarded me with that damnedunreadable mask which he’d slipped on asI was talking. Great. Lords weren’t muchon being told they were wrong, but it hadto be said.”

“Your enemies call it comeuppanceand relish the detailsof a drug too fine, how longyou must have dangled there beside yourself.In the middle distance of yourtwenty-ninth year, night split openlike a fighter's bruised palm,a purple ripeness.Friends shook their heads.With you it was alwaysthe next attractive trouble,as if an arranged marriage had been madein a country of wing walkers, lion tamers,choirboys leaping from bellpullsinto the high numb glitter, and you,born with the breath of wild on your tonguebrash as gin.True, it was charming for a while.Your devil's balance, your debts.Then no one was laughing.Hypodermic needles and cash registersemptied themselves in your presence.Cars went head-on.Sympathy, old motor, ran outor we grew old, our tongueswearing little grooves in our mouthsclucking disappointment.Michael, what pulled you upby upstart rootsand set you packing,left the rest of us here, body-heavyon the edge of our pews.Over the reverend's lamentwe could still hear laughter, your mustachethe angled black wingsof a perfect crow. Laterwe taught ourselves the proper method for mourninghaphazard life: salt, tequila, lemon.Drinking and driftingin your honor we barely felt a thing.”

“Not in his speech, not in his thoughts, I see his greatness, only in his actions, in his life.”