My mind slues round back at my throat, Music rolls, not through the organ, individuals are they are no household of mine around me, but.
Ever the difficult unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward sunlight, ever the atmosphere plus the ceaseless tides, Ever myself and my next-door next-door neighbors, refreshing, wicked, genuine, Ever the old inexplicable question, ever that thorn’d thumb, that breathing of itches and thirsts, Ever the vexer’s hoot! Hoot! Till we find where in fact the sly one hides and bring him forth, Ever love, ever the sobbing fluid of life, Ever the bandage beneath the chin, ever the trestles of death.
In some places with dimes regarding the eyes walking, To feed the greed for the stomach the minds liberally spooning, Tickets buying, using, attempting to sell, however in to your feast coffee meets bagel dating never ever when going, numerous sweating, ploughing, thrashing, after which the chaff for re payment obtaining, A few idly owning, as well as the wheat constantly claiming.
This is basically the town and I also have always been one of many residents, Whatever interests the others interests me personally, politics, wars, areas, papers, schools, The mayor and councils, banking institutions, tariffs, steamships, factories, shares, shops, real-estate and individual property.
The small abundant manikins skipping around in collars and tail’d coats i realize who they really are, (these are generally definitely maybe perhaps not worms or fleas, ) we acknowledge the duplicates of myself, the weakest and shallowest is deathless beside me, the things I do and state equivalent waits for them, Every idea that flounders in me the exact same flounders inside them.
I am aware completely well my egotism that is own my omnivorous lines and should never compose any less, And would fetch you whoever you will be flush with myself.
Maybe maybe Not terms of routine this track of mine, But suddenly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book–but the printer while the printing-office kid?Read More »My mind slues round back at my throat, Music rolls, not through the organ, individuals are they are no household of mine around me, but.