10,664. FOR TOO LONG DWELLING

FOR TOO LONG DWELLING

I've sat here for too long dwelling;

now I'm just catch as catch can.

Another Palm Sunday treat for the

Reverend McSweet. The little white

church in the dell is falling, the new,

large on the hill seems no better off.

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There's a guy over there with his big

red Buick. He's sitting in the street;

the hood his up and he's looking at

a manual while he perches on the

curb. Nothing goes wrong like that

anymore. It's probably just the battery.

-

I keep trying to like things, but I can't

ever find anything to like. Crossing

Inman just this morning, a freight

stopped traffic for one hundred and

eighty one cars. Going slow. Can you

imagine?