Halfway to Peoria
Halfway to Peoria.
The supplications of a defrocked priest.
Behind every one-liner, a story of translucent dreams and errant hope.
What awaits you when you break with the Vatican: eking out a living selling vegetables from a cart on the Via Solaria, drinking too much wine, a prostitute who takes you under her wing.
Your mother left you when you were three and sailed off for Peoria. She was going to send for you, but her ship got torpedoed halfway there, and you were left to find the road to Rome alone.
We all wind up halfway to Peoria, pilgrims pitching tents under the stars, awaiting sunrise.