Silence Is All The Genius A Fool

When God Had Made The Man, He Made Him Out Of Stuff That Sung All The Time And Glittered All Over. Some Angels Got Jealous And Chopped Him Into Millions Of Pieces, But Still He Glittered And Hummed. So They Beat Him Down To Nothing But Sparks But Each Little Spark Had A Shine And A Song. So They Covered Each One Over With Mud. And The Lonesomeness In The Sparks Make Them Hunt For One Another.

Among The Thousand White Persons, I Am A Dark Rock Surged Upon, And Overswept.

Sweat, Sweat, Sweat! Work And Sweat, Cry And Sweat, Pray And Sweat!

There Is Something About Poverty That Smells Like Death. Dead Dreams Dropping Off The Heart Like Leaves In A Dry Season And Rotting Around The Feet; Impulses Smothered Too Long In The Fetid Air Of Underground Caves. The Soul Lives In Sickly Air. People Can Be Slaveships In Shoes.

It's A Funny Thing, The Less People Have To Live For, The Less Nerve They Have To Risk Losing Nothing.