“There are always vultures too fat and heavy to fly that brazenly squat around a slowly putrefying dream pretending to be somewhere else. No matter how long it takes to die these sloppy hairless buzzards can wait, having no projects of their own to dream about. And their eyes, like so many phony red emeralds, stare out and make one wonder if they really exist - so motionless are they. And all the while they are treacherously poisoning our very mop water.”