Jan 1, 2005

Chapter 99


Bob Dawson, the patient:

I can’t make the hills
The system is shot
I’m living on pills
For which I thank God.

I followed the course
From chaos to art
Desire the horse
Depression the cart

My page was too white
My ink was too thin
The day wouldn’t write
What the night penciled in.

I know she is coming

I know she will look
And that is the longing
And this is the book

Ursula Schulz, the care-giver:

Typical car ride with Ursula:
She will take you far into the country and the forests.
But if someone has been too isolated too long, she will take them to town.
In this case, the old white-haired guy at the end, walking with spirit where the children are running.

sometimes I don’t know
where this dirty road is taking me
sometimes I don’t know the reason why

I guess I’ll keep on gambling
Lots of booze and lots of rambling
It’s easier than just waiting around waiting to die

I got me a friend at last
He don’t steal or cheat or lie

and Mi Gitana:

Leonard Cohen, the Prophet:

If it be thy will, with spoken introduction:
If it be Your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before....

If it be your will

to make us well

and draw us near

Oh, bind us tight

all your children here

in our rags of light

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