My mind slues round to my throat, Music rolls, although not through the organ, individuals are around me personally, however they are no home of mine.

My mind slues round to my throat, Music rolls, although not through the organ, individuals are around me personally, however they are no home of mine.

Ever the difficult unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward sunlight, ever the atmosphere while the ceaseless tides, Ever myself and my 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! Him forth, Ever love, ever the sobbing liquid of life, Ever the bandage under the chin, ever the trestles of death till we find where the sly one hides and bring.

In some places with dimes in the eyes walking, To feed the greed regarding the stomach the minds liberally spooning, Tickets buying, using, attempting to sell, however in into the feast never ever as soon as going, Many sweating, ploughing, thrashing, after which the chaff for re re payment obtaining, A few idly owning, in addition they the wheat constantly claiming.

Here is the town and I also have always been among the residents, Whatever interests the remainder interests me personally, politics, wars, areas, newspapers, schools, The mayor and councils, banking institutions, tariffs, steamships, factories, shares, shops, real-estate and individual property.

The tiny abundant manikins skipping around in collars and tail’d coats i realize who they really are, (they truly are favorably maybe maybe perhaps not worms or fleas, ) we acknowledge the duplicates of myself, the weakest and shallowest is deathless beside me, The thing I do and state similar waits for them, Every believed that flounders in me personally exactly the 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.

Perhaps perhaps Not terms of routine this track of mine, But abruptly to concern, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book–but the printer additionally the printing-office child? Continue reading “My mind slues round to my throat, Music rolls, although not through the organ, individuals are around me personally, however they are no home of mine.”