A TOTAL NO
They mean what I mean the apples
are falling from the autumn trees and the
lamplight throws its brushless strokes
over an evening meadow. Now is all the
time to wander. Beacon to Pound Ridge
to some God-forsaken Iowa farm, it seems
I've been so insulated from bad living. The
kid from Duddly Corner, they say, came
by one night to ask the farmer for his
daughter; 'you mean to ask for my
daughter's hand?' he said. 'No sir,'
said the kid, 'I want her whole and
entire, you understand?'
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