Yes, alas, I shall sing my songs alone, alone and unheard by any but the coyotes, the wolves, the pumas, the bears, the deer, the elk, and the stars which sweep across the night sky like a cascade of lights falling and dancing like a brook that winds its way singing and skipping over stones to the sea.

No Getaway for me again this year. Again this year I shall sit here in my mountain fastness and let my soul chant the melodies of the Universe and sing of the vastness of that which is Human:

Please don't burn our shit-house down,
Mother has promised to pay.
Father's away on the ocean wave
And sister's in the family way.

Brother dear has gonorrhea
And times is fucking hard;
So please don't burn our shit-house down
Or we'll all have to shit in the yard.