RETURNING TO THIS LIFE
Outward of Liberty and Freedom, I flew in like a
cork - if a cork could be a bird, and if a bird would
still fly. Might be a paradox, yet it all makes sense to
me. And this, after all, is my own fuse box. I make
puzzles for you. I sit me back to wrest from hands
the things that hang us up. There is no place like
this golden land, and there's no gold like this land.
-
Spinners and minarets. The golf-tenders and caddies,
the cheerleaders and those who play ball. There are
millions of little things in this world - we don't need
to know tham all, though a fair familiarity helps. I
can rip-steed your hip bone with my teeth. I can
gentle your landing from the day we meet. This
legacy, I swear, I will leave : 'He was a
friend to all Mankind.'
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