A Mountain With A Wolf On It

Animals Used To Provide A Lowlife Way To Kill And Get Away With It, As They Do Still, But, More Intriguingly, For Some People They Are An Aperture Through Which Wounds Drain. The Scapegoat Of Olden Times, Driven Off For The Bystanders Sins, Has Become A Tender Thing, A Running Injury. There, Running Away Is Me: Hurt It And You Are Hurting Me.

Our Loneliness Makes Us Avid Column Readers These Days.

The Zest For Life Of Those Unusual Men And Women Who Make A Great Zealous Success Of Living Is Due More Often In Good Part To The Craftiness And Pertinacity With Which They Manage To Overlook The Misery Of Others. You Can Watch Them Watch Life Beat The Stuffing Out Of The Faces Of Their Friends And Acquaintances, Although They Themselves Seem To Outwit The Dense Delays Of Social Custom, The Tedious Tick-tock Of Bureaucratic Obfuscation, Accepting Loss And Age And Change And Disappointment Without Suffering Punctures In Their Stomach Lining.

If A Person Sings Quietly To Himself On The Street People Smile With Approval; But If He Talks It's Not Alright; They Think He's Crazy. The Singer Is Presumed To Be Happy And The Talker Unhappy.

In Order To Really Enjoy A Dog, One Doesn't Merely Try To Train Him To Be Semi-human. The Point Of It Is To Open Oneself To The Possibility Of Becoming Partly A Dog.