“… and so I waited. I waited until sunset. Listening and seeing a mirage. A voice from my past. What answers when you ask, ‘Why?’ Her last words not words but laughter. What happens when the seducer is saved and not the seduced. How God was not there but He didn’t bother to tell me that—the prayer out of heart in darkness which pleads, ‘Lord take the desire away like you took the desire from her…’ How days months years go by without God and you grow used to the torment the sad reckoning with life where sometimes we utter in the mirror, ‘I’m no good…’ And so I took that can of gasoline and I doused it. I leaned that guitar against that oak and struck a match knowing only it would burn. And I saw my son in the smoke… You know there are five books to Psalms like it’s supposed to match the Pentateuch the first five books of the Bible the story of how it all began our creation and all those begottens the Jews God’s chosen people their exodus and wanderings finally making it to the promised land and you know not all of it was written by him. Not all of it was written by David…”

and no not all of it was written by him and what’s written by me I don’t know. For has it all been said? As a history of a man from the restoration to the millennial kingdom? All that remains is Dulcinea and a child. The rest miscegenation and incest. The last vestiges of honor and pride holding onto the meat of an otherwise animal subsistence the mere survival of life. And so I quit. I quit this here and all that’s left out—the discrepancies to a dissolution. What’s human in it only left to turn it on to make the energy—the children. The fifth book the final five chapters. And I know now this is my story this is my song. Until the prayers of David Threnody the son of Horace are ended…



Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,
I’ll sing Thy power to save…
–William Cowper

It’s 1975. Nine years have passed since Aaron was murdered and burned since Benjy and Maddie died eight years since David Threnody took a trip back to those crossroads in Mississippi but maybe it began in 1975—the healing. And in the healing maybe we’ll finally know who Benjy was. Maybe we’ll get to know David’s son. Reflected in Solomon. And Dulcinea. In the child she bore that year…