religiously as sacrice does fail. No panacea lights the way. Plot overstays. We court delay. Against the arc, the monster, none prevail. From heads sunk low in morning gruel (the candle, long a stolid pool), a sound emits --cruel habit's abject wail. Jaundiced Dawn by Norman Ball Avert your eyes? Youll miss the game. No matter. Time returns the same unerring serpent, Onan, mouth-to-tail. A bottled ship on stillborn sea enjoys more freedom. By degree, each soul bemoans its ornamental sail. Discoverys of rote design. Fate circles back to stage the crime repeatedly. Heroics can't prevail.