Your quest has made me now too hot
to handle, and I can't sit still. There's a
mason jar on this table top, right where
the fly keeps landing. Must be something
sweet somewhere, but only you know
what I mean. I'm listening to Resphigi,
and that music he wrote to go along with
the pictures by Botticelli. Oh, it's all so
right. Some jarring music later stolen by
Christians to make into a hymn. Oh come
oh come Emanuel, and ransom captive
Israel. My God, what a world this is.
We seek to stop striving, but strive hard
to do that. Just the same as all those people
doing mass Yoga. I don't understand a thing.