You remember, right? Hair suddenly emerged in your crotch?
My chin was bare. But in my shorts I wore a five o'clock shadow. It grew and then twirled like a manured field. And damn did it itch! What a calamity. For a summer, I hosted Mardi Gras in my pants. The center of my world shifted down.
This was my middle passage. Did you sail once, too? Since then, I've harbored doubts ... about my character and moral worth; grave doubts, reviewing certain incidents, these odd things I did; incidents I dearly wish I could completely and forever forget. "Uh? I did that? Fuck!" No. This is your penance, night and morning,
Yeah: some of this is Catholic stuff: echoes, leftovers; reheating. (Dear Rome: your behavioral brain-washing worked!) Not all, though: some of it was just me. I behaved a certain way.