Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your

Sometimes I Think If I Had To Choose Between An Ear Of Corn Or Making Love To A Woman, I'd Choose The Corn.

... A Gaggle Of Old Ladies Is Glued To The Window At The End Of The Hall Like Children Or Jailbirds. They're Spidery And Frail, Their Hair As Fine As Mist. Most Of Them Are A Good Decade Younger Than Me, And This Astounds Me. Even As Your Body Betrays You, Your Mind Denies It.--there Are Five Of Them Now, White Headed Old Things Huddled Together And Pointing Crooked Fingers At The Glass.

Being The Survivor Stinks.

I Roll Onto My Side And Stare Out The Venetian Blinds At The Blue Sky Beyond. After A Few Minutes I'm Lulled Into A Sort Of Peace. The Sky, The Sky--same As It Always Was.

Sometimes I Think That If I Had To Choose Between An Ear Of Corn Or Making Love To A Woman, I'd Choose The Corn. Not That I Wouldn't Love To Have A Final Roll In The Hay - I Am A Man Yet, And Something Never Die - But The Thought Of Those Sweet Kernels Bursting Between My Teeth Sure Sets My Mouth To Watering. It's Fantasy, I Know That. Neither Will Happen. I Just Like To Weight The Options, As Though I Were Standing In Front Of Solomon: A Final Roll In The Hay Or An Ear Of Corn. What A Wonderful Dilemma. Sometimes I Substitute An Apple For The Corn.