5267. I SHALL NOT CEDE A THING

I SHALL NOT 
CEDE A THING

I gird these loins as if a hurricane was coming : of heart

and sound and fury. Battening down windows and door,

latching the latchkeys wherever. I shall hide in the very

basement of my mind; where the great thoughts and

secrets are stored. One grand wind might break me, 

yet I shall not cede a thing. Remain steadfast and strong.

The toil of all this raiment is heavy enough to break a

mere mortal; but I take precautions against my failure.

-

Monkey in the zoo, monkey in the treetop; scatting sounds

up and down. I can't distinguish this fabled life from anything

lived by anyone else. If there's a fury coming, I'm ready.

-

I gird these loins like a hurricane was here already  -  twisting

and tearing, running through glass and wood panels, ripping

roofs and flinging barnyard animals. Once I see a chicken  - 

impaled but still living  -  upon a fencepost afloat and free, only

then will I know it is all too late. Too late for sound and fury.

And for sure too late for me. For the fury to come,

I'm ready.