You'll know it when you see stars and kindred soldiers, rain resistant and immune to coiled snakes sniffing glue-like cacti, exacting in their inbred capacity for sloughing off skin fitting like a reptile purse across the bones.
Don't bother committing to memory, putting to rights this far cry from intelligence. One of the rafters will chastise one of the strangers in our midst. One of the elders will ransack honest moonglow for its origin, and the tables will be turned before they're iodized and full of sun. Sheila E. Murphy
