The Body And The Soul

What Have I Done, Dear God, To Deserve This Perpetual Feeling That I'm Almost Ready To Begin Something Really New?

My Papa's Waltz: The Whiskey On Your Breath Could Make A Small Boy Dizzy; But I Hung On Like Death: Such Waltzing Was Not Easy. We Romped Until The Pans Slid From The Kitchen Shelf; My Mother's Countenance Could Not Unfrown Itself. The Hand That Held My Wrist Was Battered On One Knuckle; At Every Step You Missed My Right Ear Scraped A Buckle. You Beat Time On My Head With A Palm Caked Hard By Dirt, Then Waltzed Me Off To Bed Still Clinging To Your Shirt.

Beginnings Start Without Shade,thinner Than Minnows.the Live Grass Whirls With The Sun,feet Run Over The Simple Stones,there's Time Enough.behold, In The Lout's Eye, Love.

What's Important? That Which Is Dug Out Of Books, Or Out Of The Guts?

Civilization Is Over-rated, But There Isn't Much Else.