waiting for deathlike a catthat will jump on thebedI am so very sorry formy wifeshe will see thisstiffwhite bodyshake it once, thenmaybeagain"Hank
"Hank won''s not my death thatworries me, it's my wifeleft with thispile ofnothing
Life returned with a cause-the
Some strange chance once interrupted it
Just as on that distant summer day,
I am standing in the same old street
UR troubles shrink not, though I feel them less Here, far away, than when I tarried near; I even smile old smiles—with listlessness— Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere
A thought too strange to house within my brain Haunting its o...
I
VE
OU - I love you, e'en as
Rage at myself for this obsession,
I was born in Chicago's kitchen fire,
And hang all bastards on eleсtricity wire.
My godfather was Landky Maer,
And mother was Remington rifle.
My Tommi wrote every head line title,
To the Priest, on Observing how most Men mistake their own Talents When beasts could speak (the learned say, They still can do so ev'ry day), It seems, they had religion then, As much as now we find in men
It happen'd, when a plague broke out...