JACOB'S RELEASE
Some days I just walk these city streets alone and
endlessly, my big heart pealing, my poor eyes to view.
I have no gifts or magic to bring to these teeming hordes
of people - and things - I see. They are brown figments,
in a way, and they just go on. Every moment of the
present is not real; each is but a reflection of everything
that's gone before it : the old John Street church, now
just sitting there, was once a hotbed, a fiery place - of
blacks and slaves and runaways and burials and
intriques and prayer. All jumbled together in
one hot instance we missed : now, for
goodness' sake it's real estate.
-
Half-measures have never been for me : I dive, and
dive again until I hit bottom, or leap, until I hit
the sky. It's senseless as all get-out, but it keeps
my life alive and going. Right now, in passing,
I shoulder every responsibility that ever was
and make it mine : I want to change the world.
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