Friday, March 3, 2017

love's little mass: a secret bit ensconced in the soft flesh

I says: each woman has her own beauty and her own good secret that is worth waiting to hear.

I go further still.

I must choose my words carefully, now.

I feel the chill of the night air around me and the beckoning blackness, beckoning me to take my shirt off and dance!

The twilight grotto!  Bones of things in left in cages, animals for the butchering, the trading, the awful malingering of the star beasts!

I fear I bit Jonbo on the neck and blacked out, awakening in the asylum, where I always knew I would wind up if I ever really spoke my mind about all these mad thoughts in my head.

Charlie Daniels gets to a good part, and I slow down to listen.  He begins with a Robert Johnson idea and makes it his own, puts his own thumbprint on it, and he will then, too, be forever remembered for his own words, instead of some trolling by a guy like me.

"C'mon back you son of a gun if you ever want to try it again."

"In America, did you ever think we could get it back together again?  Well we darn sure fooled ya."


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