snapudi: Ambition, I have none save the pursuit of insanity, lived in a life of unwound experience, open faced and honest recognition: this, the crumbling foundation of our own ambitions to let go: the conscious body of man swarming buzzing a fever of enlightenment holding ever less, holding ever more -- even the stars burn through my eyes -- holding the table down at the feast, what if gravity should let it go? the heavy safe sacrifice holds it down even when a laughing flock crowds the sky. I let my friend, one love one brother, kick me in the thigh until I limp and his shinbone records shadowy its kinetic history in my flesh; the flesh I admit to carry and admit nothing more, except that when I gave up the drugs then I really freaked out, stopped hiding even when I'm hiding, when all my life is hiding, slipped, stopped, spun, eyes glazed with tears of recognition, this is what God whispered and I started to believe, belief now richened with the sun-shining-through-colored-water of experience which explains, what you thought you thought was this tender expression of life's secret poetry. This, like a marble, like an organ pulsing with fluid, this moment expanding and contracting gone, gone, gone forever in the digestion . .

Each pie I deliver to the blighted and the striving comes embossed with an X, a prayer for Malcom, the blessed wicked lie of a ex-deadhead correctional-officer convict landscaper current friend tangent teacher. The lies he tells mirror the truths I tell until both cancel both and we silently feed God's hungry mouths, one cheesesteak, one stromboli, one medium with roni, one slice with mayonaisse, thank you very much ma'am have a good night enjoy your food sure glad it stopped raining later on boss good lookin out dawg careful its hot you know you gonna get fed.