THE GOLD RUSH
Never no mind, you have nothing more,
never no mind; take from me or leave it
for the next big mistake. I am coiled like
a snake and wish to meet you now
along some garden lane.
-
These are the sinecures of my demise :
I am too far gone and have already entered
the final tent. Being is great, when great is
the being. I am finding no more to say.
-
The final token has now closed the bridge;
the bold men are walking with shovels. Three
abreast, they saunter past caves in the wilderness,
shouting for things they have missed : 'Daniel
Boone, Johnny Appleseed, all those who
have gone before us!'
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