Now that they have gone, I can tell you: I was once the highest sun of Cape Clorox, bristling on Saturday beaches and equally white afternoons. The patterns of days were mine obliquely, by segregated lonliness and my carriers were the simple Gauchos of the North. Many confused visions tamed my elemental roar until the outrage of both friends and outsiders rained obtuse bullets of not-love. I had no assailants in the manner of victims, though one might have guessed. Even through snowstorms, effete and perpendicular, shadows loomed in cordial whenevers, cold and mindless. I tell you, it's uncomfortable to inoculate such a hang-out-the-future system, bent on its own mute survival.
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