Conjecture…I did not like the women…

D. David Croot has been writing on and off (pretty much continually) for nineteen hundred years. He is no preternatural creature, no real special abilities or heightened desires to speak of, but he’s put in his four-trillion hours and it’s all for you my sweaty precious and sublimely beautiful creatures.

— — — — — — — -

I did not like the women of sixth form

It was the first time I knowingly became aware of masks

and personae

Pretending to be their mothers

Innocence shot to the moons orbits

Or anything but their mothers

They had no opinions but could talk

and talk on, about anything

I could not listen

Twas spit in the canal of thy ear

I often pretended I was a kinda Hitler

and they would all kinda disappear

— — — — —

For when the beauty of innocence is slaughtered

And you cannot hold a contradictory viewpoint

there’s a chance you’ll never know anything at all.

It all started here: when I think of school part one