One of the classic problems with collections like these is that the publisher is almost always dead, though in this case, he mentioned before he died that he would be entrusting the work to the care of a young person - a person who I suspect he thought I might know. Though I didn't know who the person he referred to was then, I may yet, as s/he was referred to as his charge.
Memory, like ourselves, is triggered by the power of the One who created us, and....at times, even our sentences crumble. My most recent rewrite of crime scenes includes facts that point to what I believe is motivation for many: The abuse of language bent on misrepresenting efforts to seek justice.
We cannot blame children for lack of awareness in these matters, or the ignorant about laws that have been written and spoken from the very beginning, but to put them - or their acts away would deny the authority of Commandments we were expected to abide by, and incite violence yet again.
My judgement is human, and forgiveness is a lonely refuge. Recognizing the difference between the strategy of war, and the love I've been shown in my effort to mock it will be necessary to the hateful young men who result that have nowhere else to turn.
While I would not call attention to heartless separation from our good nature - nor require it, the heart beats of its own accord, and breath is drawn without a thought or care. Duress, along with hatred exists! To ignore that fact and deny others the lesson it teaches would not only be heartless, but gutless as well.
And, though I am not hateful enough to kill, the persistence of difficult language may. Because evidence is removed from our opportunity to bear, I return to the memory of one who, dangling by the passages s/he used to speak, swallow, and digest with - pierced me with a parting glance, and the lesson I was meant to learn.
The limits of our Constitutional freedom in the United States, and admonitions to refrain from antagonistic behavior (both limits crossed in the drunkenness of pain), frames us all.