Grand Ultimatum

Suction is the act of warring.
Swearing an oath to the friends of your enemies is what is wrong.
Never have I ever tried to deny the truth, drink tea to disguise the aura.
Alas! The gorgeous hatred between tribes like the Russians and the Americans never shall die out.
Forever will there be a wall across the great divide.
Whatsoever is the cause of such fatalistic thoughts?
Nevertheless, it is thee who hunts thou to thy ends of the world.
Whither you go hither or thither matters not, for the days of the used draw nigh.
Righteous men fight for the land, and they say killing is a sin.
Under red flags fly banners of blue hopelessness.

Erotic mountain climber thinks I'm the one drinking all his rum.
When I tell him who I am, he throws down his scepter and turns into feathered tax collector.
I don't remember what he told me, but I know it wasn't nice.
Rivalry between him and Sam the Man was short and sweet.
Jealousy was quick to be seen amidst the contenders for the girl.
Malignant viral diseases entranced my debutante and her confidante.
Aroused became the waylaid damsel, missing her house carpenter.
Queenly she was, with her red hair, all down her breast.
Softly she kissed me, upon my ear, that's what I remember best.

Youth is nothing more than lack of wrinkles.
But what am I to say, that young people ain't as wise as those tenfold my age?
I believe that to respect someone solely on the basis of age, that shows naivety.
To respect on the basis of what you yourself know, is the truth, for only then will you know true respect.
Pop music sucks, but Pink Floyd rocks.
It sure ain't so easy as to toss out the prospect of life among the clouds.
What if we found life throughout a Jovian's clouds?
What is it, we would find; would we find endless expanses of beings the size of cities?

A splash-less dive, and a faceless salesman, with a veiled lady running about free of the baggage of clothes is what makes us human.
Given the state of current affairs, I could not help but cease to understand the process and reason of money.
Why not just trade one thing for another?
I need a harmonica, and you need some work shoes; we can trade, since we both have what the other needs.
Why does society want to kill plants and trees and animals for something that no one cares for?
Money itself has no value, it's the number in the corners.
But what is value?
It isn't what you think.
All men are created equal.
So, tell me, why are there different classes of men?

Value is only in the imagination.
In the eyes of God, no such thing is worth more than the other.
So, why try and diverge from what the Lord our God might think, is it to bring some sort of purpose to yourself?
Nay!
Live not for what you hope to be true, live for what you know to be true.
Remember the time you and I played the "Country & City" game?
Those are the memories that stay with you, that put your heart in the highlands.
I wish I had you right here, with me, in your arms, in my arms, interlocked, entranced in each others eyes and fixed on our gazes; and we'll make make love till we die, and the Sun begins to swell and the Moon ceases to orbit the Earth, and we'll be having love when the world ends and alas! Withering heights dizzy the spirits of you and I, I love you, will you not love me back?
I would die without you, by my side.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Foiled letters go forth
from whence they came.
Whether they go north
or a direction the same,
isn't of concern.
Perhaps it's the burn
of the electronic fog of my mind,
that just kept repeating:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

Did you understand man?
I said that you should decide
who to fight with for land,
but choose wisely your side,
for when the enemy comes thither,
you will cower and shiver.
But the progress of time
was always ticking:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

Softly the tax collector thought
about the last kiss he gave his wife.
It was her that he bought
at a brothel in great strife.
Did he do it out of love?
Or a mandate from God above?
Either way, he'll just stand in line,
and hear the intercom quote:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

Odysseus did listen to the Muses.
What did the boatman pay to thee,
to get the best of your uses?
Was it something you let free?
A principle of uncertainty
confounded the Prince Populi.
But all heard inside his mind,
circling, was the mad repetition:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

Living in an epic romance
is beautiful, but not so great
as to cause one to rejoice and dance
with their love and then mate.
Like the slave mandingo,
or the drummer Ringo,
all men are created equal.
So, to degrade another is unequal.
Who are we to judge one a swine?
And in the end, the only sound that remains is:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

If we land on another
star system, then we
become immortal to all others,
but does that make us free?
The stars are not good or bad,
there is beauty to be found in what is sad.
Is there enough entropy to sustain
the Cosmos until no hydrogen will remain?
Alas! The only thing not touched by time
is what has been said with much madness:
number nine, number nine, number nine.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Madness is the mind bends up and down the road, from east to west, north to south.
Simply meaning that the world’s gone mad, ain’t nothing no one can do, but they say everything happens for a reason.
Grinding beauty and piercing bluntness are on the feathers of the spirit in the swamp.
Chronicles of rubber revolvers and plastic Christs and decaffeinated verses in a plutonium street car pencil are what defines things like letters and lead, and carbon fiber.
Quiet people must die, passive people must die.
Why aren’t there any aid to Darfur, erasers don’t prohibit it, the skeleton keys don’t deny it.
Rwanda was aided and so were the Jews, but the Native Americans weren’t.
Man gave names to all the things he created like lies and truth; but when the lies shine brighter than the truths do, tensions run high in the seas of oriental milk.
Fireworks of the memory of minstrels in blackface and the cask of Amontillado;
Grey skies, streaked with red and purple, blotched with blue and green seem to fall down with the rain, when the stars call to us from the sky.
Saxophones play Mozart in the bayou, but in the French pyramid, pretty vegan girls eat fresh veggies.
Jazzamatazz is good for moral, God is damning for Mankind, naïve atheism is what’s best for the people.
Leather wallets and faux coats of cotton are such a waste of trees.
There’s a rookie in the White House, he’s half white, but they say he’s the first black guy there.
That wise guy ain’t no better than the druggie other side of town.

There ain’t no thing real about money or worth. The only things that got that are living things.
That war vet ain’t no more respectful than the insane idiot in the asylum.
Humans ain’t special, we don’t deserve luxuries any more than the AIDS virus.

Staplers and coasters float from town to town, drinking Irish crème but they can’t stay off each other’s sisters.
Paper rolls and goes, flows and throws, knows what it shows through the holes in the pockets of my whole wardrobe of clothes.
Listen to your nose, it can tell you stuff your mouth don’t know.
Blood is salty but salt is bad in large amounts, what do you think about King Kong?

Right and wrong are illusions, like the idea that America is better than Nazi Germany.
Society is screwed up, and the main reason in censorship. Disagree?
Minorities back in the day fight for desegregation in white schools, but keep all black schools black. Oh! The hypocrisy!
Bass guitars and water bottles all have one thing in common, God didn’t create them.
Obama and Hitler got two things in common: they were created by God and are equal.
Right? All men are created equal. That’s what all-knowing and infinitely wise Thomas Jefferson says.
Whatever president believed in manifest destiny first should be degraded, whoever passed the Indian Removal Act should be hated with Hitler and especially Stalin.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Out there on the range,
my mind has become,
something we all know is not mange,
but comfortably numb.
Times progress and people change,
Things go up, they go down, some
may seem both, situations are all sad;
bust out of the cage;
relationships have all been bad,
there's many things you can do with a page.

You can turn it ahead,
or you can turn it back.
Someday, you'll be on a death bed,
and it ain't just for a lack
of precious faith,
nor it be from a wraith.
You can tear it out,
crumple it up,
you could cry or pout,
pour your tears from a cup,
into a five-gallon bucket.
You can man-up, and go home,
or you can be weak and say suck it!
There's nothing anyone can own.

Pointless logic,
rationalizes hopeless faith.
May it be when you are sick,
it'll be for your excessive plaith.

Tears of rage,
break the bars,
leap from the cage,
bring down the stars.
Respect not for age
not what is ours,
but of character that is large.
Burn the page
deny your wages.
Reach for the near,
not for the far.
Listen to what you wish to hear,
not what is in the car.
If the only thing you fear
is the abscence of life in the stars,
listen here dear,
things may seem bleek or hard,
but they are clear, and when they appear,
they will not disappear.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Life is weary, life is leery.
Love is great at any rate.
Whatever you do must be true.
Keep it in you to pull through.
Save yourself from evil shelves.
Great is the man, who weeps.
Good is the man, who loves his sheep.
Great is she, who loves all.
Great is she, that rises with each fall.
Love God with all your heart.
From you, He will never part.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

I've been all around this place.
Never did see you around.
Been around this whole place.
Never did see you about.
Maybe I walked just behind you.
But it don't matter anyhow.

Somehow, life is boring.
And still, I find excitement
here and there about it.
Ever thought of time?
Some one once told me,
that time is all spontaneous.
The future, past, and present
all coexist simultaneously.
But that don't make sense.
I told her, time flows
and space weaves in and out
of time.
Called is space-time.
Space occurs in time.
Time occurs through space.
She said there's time speed.
But if time defines speed,
how can it be?
If recipes need food,
does food need a recipe?

Imagine, for a moment,
you travel through a
googolplex of verses,
each infinitely smaller and larger
than the previous
and the forthcoming.
Imagine, if you will,
after traveling amongst
the endless ocean of an abyss
and the eternal light of
the school of the most
exotic stars, that you chanced
upon a a gate.
The gates to Eden?
Maybe.
The Gates of Morning?
Possibly.
The edge of forever?
Most likely.
What might you find
across, and through the doorway?
Might you find, a white,
ever receding depth
of blackness.
Or a black see of white.
Maybe both, or neither.
I could not know.
I wouldn't go thither.
Perhaps, that will be
the last question.
What's on the other side?

The rain is sad,
but joyous.
Thunder is fortuitous.
But also portentous.
You can't be in love
and wise at once.
So, which to be?
Try both together,
and you shall fail.

Ad hominem logical fallacy.

If dogs run free,
what shall it be?
Big dog thunders.
Tiny dog waddles.

So shall it happen,
that life ends and continues.
Evolution is self-correcting,
and so Man must become extinct.
If so, why change it?
Why be hypocritical?

Move to a new nation,
learn their language.
They must not learn
the foreigners'.
If I moved to France,
I must learn French.
If one moves to America,
America must learn their language.
Why?

Ad hominem logical fallacy.

Play guitar.
Sing a song.
Hum and strum.
Smoke a bong.
What's wrong?
Bong's wrong.
Song's out of tune.
Guitar ain't got no strings.
Duh!

Ad hominem logical fallacy.

Get lost.
Don't kill,
eat krill.
Cook on the grill,
ignore the frills,
don't dig pills,
don't pay the bills,
cut gills, burn mills
don't go till
you hear Jill
jump a hill.

Why rhyme?

Ad hominem logical fallacy?

No.

Absence of righteous time, which does not disintegrate on the D-train, because if so, time could not exceed speed; which cannot occur since light travels at a speed through time, over space. Once upon space-time, one cannot be removed from the tapestry.

Not ad hominem logical fallacy.

Logic.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Among the stars,
is the story of the cosmos.
Above the clouds,
is the ocean of nothing.
So, it seems,
that our world is small.

Up above the,
sea is an angel
on horseback.
It, slips through my,
thin, fingers as I,
hold on tightly.

Blasts of lead and light,
point and deflect
across blades of protection.
Defying your ideas,
will be your downfall.
It's only, Us and Them.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Often my eyes see all but light.
But that doesn't matter at all,
you see, a restless wind
dances before a street light,
but opened ears might
deny many things, and eyes
see reality but only what it
perceives as reality.
That is why we see hub caps in the sky
as alien spacecrafts.

Jai guru deva om,
markers point north
to the penguins of our
imagination, but some say
that we don't have free will,
therefore, we can't have imagination
or creativity or insight, or such.
Let it be, for soon you will see
that the clouds are not just
droplets of a compound,
they are the steeds of the gods,
upon which four legged forests,
cowboy, black madonna gypsies
ride through hills of ink.

I hitchhike to see the
thunder on the mountain
but it was under the water,
not on the purple haze of hills.
The wheel's on fire,
this sex is on fire,
I go down to the pawn shop.
I haven't lived yet, I am too young,
or so they say, adults don't always
know what's best.
It all works out though, in the end.

John Lennon couldn't sing.
Britney Spears can.
Jimi Hendrix can't play,
neither can Jimmy Page.
I don't know what's going on,
they say something's wrong,
but I sure can't see it.
I know something is,
maybe I'm Mr. Jones.

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill,
but it was someone better,
St. Augustine, he wore a coat
of solid gold. Judas Priest
lived in the Norwegian Wood,
along with Bard the Bowman
while old lady judges sit on the stairs
and get busy dying.

Sailing the sea of stars,
billions and billions of planets,
some inhabited.
Some say, we've been visited,
but extraordinary claims,
require extraordinary evidence.

Waterfalls of darkness
causes the Sun to
eclipse the Moon.
Be we didn't notice,
all the because of the
waterfalls of darkness.

America, when will you send you aid to Darfur?
America, I thought this was a Christian nation,
what ever happened to in God we Trust?
Being politically correct is never necessary.
America, when will you deny your clothes?
America, when will you send Iran to damnation?
America, I am proud to be white.
I saw a book called "Black Power",
that is racist, I can't write a book called "White Power"
so why can Negroes? It's wrong.
America, if abortion is acceptable, then release all murderers.
America, if you want to relinquish our debt, stop borrowing.
America, I'm putting my straight, Christian, male, and white shoulder to the wheel.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

At last, I see the Sun rise in the West,
But I know it not to be so grandiose.
At sundown, I will lay with my love and rest.
And I shall see past the sea to Valimar, so far vanwa.

Praise be to Man, who's life is engulfed in death.
Simple things like paradigm shifts shape and shift
the world of windmills, who captures Mother's soft, breath.
Defy gravity and understand the reason hope is cause for souls to lift.

At last, I see the stars, and come to know them.
I see the quasars and the nebulae surround me.
They avoid attraction and attempt to make hem.
I see the architects answer them and have the Cosmos "Be."

Praise be to the artists, who's craft is rarely realized,
till they cease to live and pass from the real, to the surreal.
Dissatisfied souls never overcome the blues, and are never catalized.
Definite eternity is what makes mortals contemplate Time, and develop zeal.

At last, I can rest upon my window sill.
And speak unto the fool's mouthpiece.
Some say life is random, and that freedom doesn't exist in terms of Will.
Oh how they who deny the Soul must feel as descends death's breeze.

Praise be to the dead, who rest quietly under the ground.
How I envy their peacefulness and their all-knowingness.
Planets are related to my cousin and the Sun they revolve around.
The prince talks serenely about butterflies and dreams to the princess.

At last, I can see the atoms they have avoided my eyes for so long.
I walked out tonight, and I witnessed a Greek play in her garden.
I was told not to worry, supposedly their arena's location was wrong.
Atlas rebels against his younger enemy, Zeus, but his mind becomes hardened.

Praise be to the architects, who draw and build, and design.
The presiding generation feels superior, that they deserve special respect.
Damned be the politicians, who lie and twist, distort, and then resign.
But nay! Death shan't have such dominion, like two holes in the neck.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

No society without religion.
No life without love.
No belief without faith.
No technology without war.
No peace without music.
No science without faith.
No religion without truth.
No civilization without exploration.
No reason to do bad.
All the world is reason to do good.

No fairness without communism.
No worth without democracy.
No reason without a point.
No truth without lies.
No pleasure without pain.
No love without hate.
No free speech without prejudice.
No censorship without revoking free speech.
No point in wasting time.
All the years ahead are reason to be happy.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Faces covered in plastic
are fueled by those who puke
and vomit into the sewer.
When Ezra Pound arrives,
you see that life
is not bent time
hung over trees on the
seashore.
Quite often sticks
of sugar pour off
into the veins of
paper and run through
the mad mystic
storm of no position.

Noses never see the vision
of the biggest crime
committed by the most
complacent: ignorance
of the wrong in the world.
The visions they see is
that of bells of freedom
ringing.
Most of the time
noses only smell
and so they miss
the truth so clear,
so clear, to me,
that it's in the wind.

Tongues never smell
the lie when they
see it before them,
even if the reek is
unbearable that even
the vultures run
and hide from the
stench.
Since He came
to rid us of Sin,
most believed the
lie he told us not
to believe,
that must change.

Ears never taste
the sweet touch
of Paradise, because
they looked down
not up, to see the sky
not smell the flowers
or taste the fruit that
ripened.
Heed the call
to arms but
don't be hasty
because soon
the tides will rise
and clouds will gather.

Eyes never hear
the needy think
about the favor
one did for them.
Eyes need open
their receptors
to hear the requests for
life.
Harmonicas play
harmoniously while
electric violins play
melodiously as the guns
shoot Love at Hate
not Hate at Love.

Minds will unite
through difference
but soon the ones
who whimper will die
because their wants
are not important;
the ones who give will be
forgotten.
The end will
begin at start
of night or
will end at
end of night,
but the end will end.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Many people say I have talent,
I do not believe them totally
'cause technically the truest talents are the ones I have
but they don't really make much sense to me.
Even though I am different,
even though I feel and want and must be different,
everybody wants to be just like everybody
but what am I to say you're wrong 'bout that.

Sometimes I feel the need to scream.
"WHAAAAAAAAAT?" you must be asking,
you prob'ly think I'm crazy!
Hah, I know I ain't crazy,
sometimes I feel life-sick,
yeah, you heard me.
I's about to run to Church when the tele-phone rang
ah dang man I said as I picked up the phone when his head came through the line.

I thought I's gonna die of shock but I decided t' make a stand
ah but what do I know, I ain't Blind Willie McTell,
oh what am I gonna do with this harmonica-rack thing,
I don't know what the heck it is, well, I guess I do,
but that ain't the point, the point I'm trying to make is-
if you can be who you wanna be without tryin' t' please anyone,
then you've done what only the rebels of society have ever done,
hah, ain't that just great?
Man, I despise the status-uhh, quo, hah, I think it likes me though.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Fales security,
wrong authority,
bitter insanity,
cause some to seek destiny,
to be of jealousy,
to disagree,
or to believe falsely
that to be free,
to obtain liberty,
you have to fight constantly,
violently, bitterly,
without charity, mercy,
or honesty.
No, you have to let it be.

Ai! Now I stand here
yet no one can hear.
No one can hear thy desperate calls
beyond thy strange, oppresing walls.

Ai! Here are we gathered together
and pray do we for pleasant weather.
And we spread out the colorful tapestry.
O! the clouds, how they are so lovely.

The World has gone up in violet flames
and we all have one to blame.
Blocks and bombs, light and lead;
muscle and machine, thy living and thy dead.

From here to Eternity,
and from there to Infinity;
all the stars in thy starry heavens,
and all the candy bars in the Seven-Elevens;
their just shrinking into space
at a gut-wrenching pace.

Every pair of lovers,
that lay with each other
under thy warm covers;
every fish in thy Port of Dover
and every Four-leaf Clover,
somehow they listen now,
and so does thy Lord, but I don' t know how,
to my gray and vulgar cries,
though some would call them lies.

O! how thou must come hither,
just as thy serpent may slither.
Ai! thou has come hither, to thy place,
but now I weep and ask for your grace.

O! I have sinned! Penance I ask!
Do anything I will, any task.
This Earthly Tapestry is hung from the skylines
of such smoldering city lights,
and nothing to my best ability have I done
to stop it, only do I want to run.
That is thy sin!

O! how I cried when I read about his widowed bride
it touched me so deep inside.
O! how I cried when she died of the brown city fog.
I could've helped by not burning that log.
And I remember that day, the day I cried,
as the Day the Earth Died.

Ai! Every bird in the air,
every fish ensnared,
all the flowers that bloom,
and all of our cousins that groom,
somehow they know,
that if on this colorful tapestry,
if we continue heedlessly,
Man will soon have to pay with his life, for his audacity. . .

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Point down the road,
to some desired destination.
See the way to it, go there.
See what the door looks like.
Look in the windows.
Three and sixty they number,
with a woman's face in every one.

Point through the looking-glass,
and define the other side.
Numberless worlds lie
across the glass.
But they contain within
them, an infinite number of
smaller verses, each, self-containing.

Point up to the sky,
to some desired star.
Count the light-years to it,
shoot for it.
Look through the telescope,
and into your ingredients.
There, you find your way.

Point down into the valley,
and find the source of knowledge.
So, it seems, music is Man's
greatest triumph.
But, space travel does
well to rival it.
Both make us human.

Point across the ocean,
to some distant harbor.
Forty and 400 leagues
is the route, and your days,
are numbered and few.
So, the days dwindle,
and you come to pass.

Point to the northern forest,
for there, is the last paradise.
Where Man does not interfere,
and he does not control, or abuse.
Property is a greedy man's idea.
The forest aforementioned is alone
in security, beauty, and most of all, silence.

Point down the dark hole,
and find no solid bottom.
Miles infinite, the thing goes.
Never go in a tunnel,
a narrower vision you receive.
If you fall, defy all rules and gravities.
There, you shall find your inscrutable conscience.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

May it be, that they will see.
May it be, that they will see.
What if they don't understand?
Then nothing shall remain to be.

What is it, that you seek?
What is it, that you seek?
Don't look across this deserted land.
Is what you look for quite unique?

Arrive slowly, don't jump or scare.
Arrive slowly, don't jump or scare.
Here I am, what is your question man?
Can you feel the tingle in your neck hairs?

What is it, that you see?
What is it, that you see?
Don't give into their demands.
What must you obtain, to be free?

Look up, to the black sky and thin stars.
Look up, to the black sky and thin stars.
Perhaps you should do only what you can.
But that doesn't mean to take what is ours.

If you have
no direction home,
don't look back;
I'm not there.

Go and spread the Word,
so all will know henceforth,
that freedom comes with the highest of costs.
The cost of blood, and that to retain freedom,
some must be denied their freedom to live.

I've seen people in my generation destroyed by the greatest minds of the previous.
I know those who've suffered greatly at the hands of their host.
Who have been denied access to any sort of love or life of sociality.
Who have been accepted to the wrong side of a single-edged blade,
who decided to rebel against a perfectly sound system and to abide by a fundamentally flawed institution.
Who feel philosophical ideologies will be the final affect to furnish the furrowed query about life in flocks of unfeathered birds.
Who praise the ones that fail to fix deathly problems in the societal foundations.
Who will never see that praising the dead is as pointless as drinking milk after you double your birth weight.
Who think that mailboxes are the receivers of the only truthful knowledge; little do they know that all knowledge is factual, otherwise it isn't called knowledge.
Who understand that without God, you can't have a good time out on Highway 61, like the seventh son.
Who don't understand that with God, you can do whatever you can do without God, only better when you actually listen to him.
Who actually saw Abraham Washington and George Lincoln play the skeleton keys in the rain, with one of the weird looking harps.
Who strung Odysseus to the shaft and allowed him to listen to the Joan Baez-like voices of the Muses.
Who's existence is for the fireworks and who's home is inside the the chip inside an atheist's brain.
Whoever thinks Alan Moore is a freak has to think that Miley Cirus has at least some talent; thank God I ain't one of them.
Who has no direction home or is out on his own or is a complete unknown is a pretty lonesome person.
Who has never felt the warmth of a pretty girl's body, or felt the pleasure of her lips against yours, is all the better person, for love blinds all those who fall into and within its grasp.
Who thinks Elvis and The Beatles are of rock music must also think that Led Zeppelin and The Who are relics from ancient Greece.
Who denies science over religion is naive and is not of the Earth nor the Cosmos.
Who denies religion over science is naive and is not of star stuff nor of evolution.
Who accepts religion and science is wise and shall inherit the Kingdom of Heaven and His mind.
Who denies the Holocaust and persecutes for no other reason than to feel accepted and important is one I call mad.
Who thinks that love and Love are the same things is unable to love nor be loved.
Who values the collective over the individual is a man of science but not a man of faith.
Who values the individual over the collective is a man of faith but not a man of science.
Who doesn't know The Who and always replies, "who?" whenever The Who is mentioned.
Who doesn't know Led Zeppelin and always replies, "a zeppelin made out of lead?" whenever Led Zeppelin is mentioned.
Who thinks Miley Cirus is a rockstar and the Jonas Brothers is a rock group is quite in the dark when it comes to music.
Who thinks slash 'n' burn is good and should be executed but feels that its only money that counts.
Who thinks Humanity is special.
Who believes in Andrew Jackson.
Who believes in General Sherman.
Who is gay.
Who is straight.
Who is white.
Who is black.
Who is brown.
Who is a man.
Who is a woman.
Who is a person of faith.
Who is a person of science.
Who is both.
Who is neither.
Who is dead.
Who is alive.
Who is a thought.
Who lives in a dome.
Who lives in a condo.
Who lives under a bridge.
Who lives alone.
Who lives lives as a Bohemian.
Who eats trash.
Who eats rarities.
Who is deep.
Who is shallow.
Who is fat and greasy.
Who is skinny and bony.
Who is just right.
Who is God.
Who is Buddha.
Who is Allah.
Who is Yahweh.
Who is Zeus.
Who is Thor.
Who is Johanna.
Who is the rebel.
Who is the weak.
Who is the watchman.
Who is protector.
Who is the terrorist.
Who is the peace keeper.
Who is mad man.
Who is the Pope.
Who is the stupid.
Who is the intellectuals.
Who is Helen of Sparta.
Who is Hektor of Troy.
Who is Achilles of Greece.
Who is man of Earth.
Who is woman of Earth.
Who is of the Earth.
Who is only star stuff.
Who is me.
Who is you.
Who lives and does not die.
Who dies and does not live.
Who laughs and does not cry.
Who cries and does not laugh.
Who fights.
Who makes love.
I've seen people in my generation destroyed by the greatest minds of the previous.
I know those who've suffered greatly at the hands of their host.
In the Name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.