“On my ongoing canvas, there’s only been caricatures and carcasses, with a highway of torture dividing the two.  Somewhere, I took a detour of forgeries and virgins, and lost the rest of America I was meant to see …

“Every time I try to measure time, I get a case of dry mouth.  That’s how I met Ettey, Ettey Roth. She, too, had a memoir, not unlike mine, and it was over slugs in Seire’s Tavern time and again that we found the mutual souring of our lives to have been rooted in the hems of our birthplaces.”

— from “Fretensis, in the Image of a Blind God, Volume 1,” by Dennis Villelmi