Dismissed form dinner at 1815 for, essentially, personal time till lights…EOCT tommorrow, tired of prep work, I know my 21 tasks backwards and forwards.  Chep wants me to visit for a while so…

BCT has sapped nearly all creative juie\ces, but the following page is an attempt at poetry…it’s hard here, sheltered from the world, from loved ones ,from my past.  I suppose a true poet would prosper here, but I am not and I’ve always known that.

Butt to the groin, the head.  Slash!  Whirl!  Thrust to the head!