I was young
And filled with
Warts from social 
Drugs
   and Jesus hype
      that flowed 
From wells that 
Stank from bodies
Buried
In the quest for
   virgin girls
      and warrior men

Lit upon the landscape
Of a mother's fire
And laid within the fertile
Nest of words that bleed
Within a cauldron
Of impressed
   desire

(c) 1996 James Oliver Smith, Jr