The smoking gun, the hard face, smooth and chiseled wrinkles. The dusky man means mayhem. Ready for popularity, with his cultured insanity. He is the patriarch. Moses died for him, the man with the smoking gun. How many pictures, mental images, has the disguised mirror taken? It is fogful, with sin. Baggy eyes lament, dark with self-hate, groping toward self-escape, or so the watchers digest. The great end all atrophies in neglect. The influence above all, for all, with all, wastes in drought.