Night kneels over the sleeper.
Where did his journey begin, where will
it burn through to?
And what does he swim for now.
Swim, sleeper, swim.
“I don’t know which seems more futile to me right now, writing a novel or writing another book of social criticism. Both of them seem, in the current context, futile. I suppose what I’d most like to do is write for the sake of writing and not even try to publish. But, I’ve been sort of embarrassingly lucky in terms of being paid for my so-called dissent. My punishment, I suppose, is how many student papers I’ve had to grade.”
Curtis White