Men of Ar

originally posted September 26, 2006

In some places, I am well-received. In others, merely tolerated. I suppose I have earned both distinctions, disparate as they might be. When they occupied my city, I painted the delka. I painted, too, the social commentary in verse and measure across the walls.

Where were your Priest Kings then?
Where is your blue flame now?
Listen...

Diligent civil servants (servants certainly, but of no civilization I could tolerate) dutifully scrubbed the bricks clean and I would paint them again. And I would do it again. I love this city. I love it's citizens as well. It is their lack of memory that I despise at times. That is not precisely true. Their memory is rather selective at times, convenient.

Obese and lazy
Gravy, more gravy
Lies taste better in sauce...

I suppose I should get the house in order, start generating income. In truth, however, unless I indulge them, it does not cost much to keep seven women fed. Mathor and Darwin, of course, have their salaries, but sending Portia and the Six Girl into the alleyways more than compensates for it. Men certainly have not lost their taste for the things I own. I need to get the books in order.