Catholics are born with tainted souls besmirched by a strange unspecified thing called original sin. Buddhists see all of life as suffering. The spirit is dragged through life enduring a seeming endless series of indignities occasionally supplanted by temporary short lived delusions of love, joy and possibly even happiness. But inevitably the indignities return relentlessly wearing the spirit thinner and thinner until it is incapable of having or containing even the most simple the short of delusions. These poems will take you on a tour of the painful indignities and delightful delusions.