The Prayer of the Pass(ed)over

You, like my own father, fucked up his own life by fucking the wrong woman while being fucked up. Now I am orphaned in a world of Wal-Marts and WMD’s, McDonalds and mass suicides, the killers on the Left and the killers on the Right, Baghdad and Blacksburg-- both are East of Eden.

Cain—the original tourguide—went out of business because of an oversaturated market. We all share his trade, marked by common paths full of double crossing bridges long burnt to rubble.

These days even Abel has a stand filled with brochures of maps to the stars—the closest any of us can hope to get to Heaven. He charges $3.75, the same price of the Chinese food dinner that now upsets my stomach and reminds me of you.

In our name you prey,

All men