And, mumbling, shuffling, turn back the page
May I not look back at sober youth,
Lived modestly, measured and with couth.
I hope instead that I am able
To recall my life as though a fable.
Talking dogs! Invective Swine!
Society with sheep and kine;
Plans prepared with rodent reason,
Nocturnally and out of season;
Hummingbird dreams of sitting still;
An insect's faith in strength of will.
Let each winter's tale surpass in rightness,
The steps I took in April's brightness.
Let my passages be descriptive
Of life as no one really lived it.
Let all my recollections resound
With truth, intriguing and profound.
Let each tale partake of youthful spirit,
Invigorating all who hear it,
And be told in solemn, ancient tone.
And, may I fail to grasp I speak alone.
APOCRYPHA, n.pl. Scripture uncanonized and memories unlived.
OK, y'all. See you in two weeks. Treat each other as I would treat you and remember sarcasm is two spleens beating as one.
Update: I will posting a little bit of new information on Barncrawling later today, for those of you who might be joining us in Chicago.