narcisso castrato

as surge of pain

hot on the tip of his nerves:

the scaple spared no haste

in trimming of his flesh

to shape his falsetto range

he sings to what they chipped

with sounds alone issuing from his throat

no voice his own

beyond the cream and prettiness

superb and brought by a knife

a disfigured male is he

wounded where the hormones played

when testes to their ashen bed

fell, flinging the man away

*Reflections of Alan Jones:

  -When the tie between information and human purpose is severed, what use are little bits of information?

  -We go shopping for myths and stories, particularly those that give us reason to blame something or someone for our pain. 

  -...truth without love is a lie.

  -Only love can be entrusted with the truth, and the truth about you is a complex and multi-layered story.

  -...when it comes to the truth about another person, compassion is the interpretive key