Everybody Is Two Beings: One Lives And

People Can Be Slave-ships In Shoes.

She Knew Now That Marriage Did Not Make Love. Janie’s First Dream Was Dead, So She Became A Woman.

And I Can't Die Easy Thinking Maybe The Menfolks White Or Black Is Making A Spit Cup Out Of You. Have Some Sympathy For Me. Put Me Down Easy, Janie, I'm A Cracked Plate.

To Me, Bitterness Is The Under-arm Odor Of Wishful Weakness. It Is The Graceless Acknowledgment Of Defeat.

When God Had Made The Man, He Made Him Out Of Stuff That Sung All The Time And Glittered All Over. Some Angels Got Jealous And Chopped Him Into Millions Of Pieces, But Still He Glittered And Hummed. So They Beat Him Down To Nothing But Sparks But Each Little Spark Had A Shine And A Song. So They Covered Each One Over With Mud. And The Lonesomeness In The Sparks Make Them Hunt For One Another.