It was just after the sun went down, the river ran a marathon under the bridge, the tracks went on into infinite places of old time America revived kicking, screaming as tears ran down her face. The heroes of the country have all laid down their arms, they have all laid down to sleep, or die. The women and wives of all that are laying down are tending to the sick and the sleepy. We are all sleepy, we are all just running like one life is more important than another. I jumped on the rails and balanced myself for a few seconds falling off and feeling failure. We have all cried, we have all wept at dreams on drugs with frail minds. The mind is never dull and the youth of this old place keep it tender. Tender minds and hearts, kind old words and rivers run like this with no time for friends, just ducks, just fish, just branches leaning in, just rock, just tears of the earth, just memories  of the sky, silence from the overgrowing ferns. We to have no time but for love, for hate, for laughing and crying and screaming and sighing.
From atop the old oak tree the wind composes songs sung by sweet tender leaves, I think of you then and cry, We all think of our loves, our loves that dissolved or drowned in the river, or burned to hot and overtook the furnace of the soul. The love oh sweet man, oh sweet woman when did we hurt such beautiful innocent things. Small child wakes to his father, he never asks why, daughter feels best with assurance from her mother, she needs no reasoning . Since the gargling of all mankind choking on all blunder and careless word spilt out over a drink, a smoke, a curious conversation, a head down on the bar 86d dead to the night.
    Rather hysterical minds and kindred hearts always lose the crowd. Rather live in happiness than wealth of greed and disease. Rewarding oneself of amphetamines and alcohol. Deserving of great loves and conflict we are. AI it is all meant and not mistaken.

Oh mankind lead but not dictate, oh mankind drop your bombs somewhere else! Its the end! The end of all men and the end of all children. The weak are striving and the children have all grown up. Cut away your chains, cut away the scars left on bruised wrist.. Oh lady of patience and all Saints help us, believe in man and love. I saw a man die in Boston right there on the ground, covered in his ****** waste and blinded by humility of dying in public. Old man, the dying is done, you were set forth to be free, no public sadness hurt people, makes them humble, makes them live, you old man are now a saint. You have died, right in front on a stage built by you or him or her. The crowd never likes to miss a tragedy from a safe seat. This crowd, forgets, we all die, we all become humbled, we all have no say in saintly demise that so many others have taken before us and left nothing but wonder with tears. You saint old man, you loved in life and will be loved as a corpse, love does not die with you, it dies a hundred years after. Please forgive our saint, our hero, our compassionate martyr, he has dropped in front of many to keep many scared of our day. There is no need to be scared, no need for sadness upon your own soul and picture you so elegantly painted of yourself. He dies, she dies, they die, we all must leave.
      
       So now the fields are overflowing with dew and the field mouse is drinking with a small mouth. The wind is now blowing through factory s and boxcars. The songs of glee and doom are still sung, poor innocent mouse, poor hobo in windy boxcar, yes we do attain enlightenment through our bad days, yes we do learn love on rainy days. Love tracks you down and finds you, you need not search for it.