A Gentle Breeze Catches In The Branches

Memphis—it’s Just A Bird. Birds Fly Around, Brother. It’s What They Do. It’s Not Following You, And It’s Not A Sign. Unless You Really Did Give It Candy And Flowers, In Which Case You Are One Strange Brother.

A Gentle Breeze Catches In The Branches Then And I Hear It, Soft And Low, A Murmured Prayer--gem-ma, Gem-ma--and Then The Leaves Bend Down And Trail Delicate Fingers Across My Cold Cheeks.

Because You Don't Notice The Light Without A Bit Of Shadow. Everything Has Both Dark And Light. You Have To Play With It Till You Get It Exactly Right.

You Don't Know Me, Dude," He Says, Not Smiling This Time. Gonzo Examines His Cards, Prepping For His Next Move. "people Always Think That They Know Other People, But They Don't. Not Really. I Mean, Maybe They Know Things About Them, Like They Won't Eat Doughnuts Or They Like Action Movies Or Whatever. But They Don't Know What Their Friends Do In Their Rooms Alone At Night Or What Happened To Them When They Were Kids Or If They Feel ****ed Up For No Reason At All.

On The Bowery, In The Ornate Carcass Of A Formerly Grand Vaudeville Theater, A Dance Marathon Limps Along. The Contestants, Young Girls And Their Fellas, Hold One Another Up, Determined To Make Their Mark, To Bite Back At The Dreams Sold To Them In Newspaper Advertisements And On The Radio. They Have Sores On Their Feet But Stars In Their Eyes.