Following is an old one, mostly. I only just tacked on a completely new tail end - it's the first time I've ever been satisfied with the piece as a whole. Maybe that's why I'm presenting it here for your eyes. Or, could be, I'm throwing this up because it's late and I am in no mood to blog ( can the pages of the Oxford be far?) about many of the things really on my mind:

Gratitude for the fact that Sarah seems to be ok, based on the recent viewings of her insides.

Musings and fears about mortality and love and this whole sad and beautiful world, heavily influenced by the news that my stepfather has prostate cancer, my mother has suffered multiple minor strokes and has a mass in her throat (biopsy this Thurday), and my Grandfather (also step) was recently hospitalized for low blood count.

Yeah, I think that's it.


Walkin' Blues

I've got the black man's blues.
I�m wearing the white man's shoes.

I've walked farther than I can tell.

I've flown with angels on borrowed wings.

I gave my car keys to the Devil
and let him drive me to Hell.

I'm no sinner.
I'm no saint.

I could fill a book with the things I ain't.

What I am is a man with the world to roam
so long as skin covers these traveling bones.

I'm moving night and day.

I've got the white man's blues.
I�m wearing the black man's shoes.

I've walked farther than I can say.