There was nothing unusual in that, we always hugged when we got together and when we said good night. And yet, there was something different about it ...or me this time. I've heard people talk about perfume being "alluring". Well, now I know what they mean. Whatever it was that Peggy had used that night really turned me on. I flushed and broke the embrace somewhat abruptly. 'Shame on you, ' I thought to myself.Peggy had fixed a really nice dinner, pot roast with all the trimmings, and had some. Do you see her body? Do you see it hanging by the ankles, meat hooks through the ankles? She's alive! Really? Then maybe he's killing her right now.Make the image go away. Try a poem again, a different poem. How's this one? Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace... Stop it! Wake up! I have to keep awake! Then what about this? I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils, neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paperweight. Shit, oh shit. May as well go back to Yeats.. More

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