I Am A Good Woman. I Know

Now Hell And Heaven Grapple On Our Backs And All Our Old Pretense Is Ripped Away. Aye, And God's Icy Wind Will Blow.

Well, I Spent Six Or Seven Years After High School Trying To Work Myself Up. Shipping Clerk, Salesman, Business Of One Kind Or Another. And It's A Measly Manner Of Existence. To Get On That Subway On The Hot Mornings In Summer. To Devote Your Whole Life To Keeping Stock, Or Making Phone Calls, Or Selling Or Buying. To Suffer Fifty Weeks Of The Year For The Sake Of A Two-week Vacation, When All You Really Desire Is To Be Outdoors, With Your Shirt Off. And Always To Have To Get Ahead Of The Next Fella. And Still — That's How You Build A Future.

The Famous Are Balloons Far Up In The Sky, To Be Envied For Their Quiet Freedom Or Shot Down As Enemies.

Certainly The Most Diverse, If Minor, Pastime Of Literary Life Is The Game Of Find The Author.

Why Am I Trying To Become What I Don’t Want To Be … When All I Want Is Out There, Waiting For Me The Minute I Say I Know Who I Am.