Tomorrow will mark a year since I had my stroke. It's an occasion that, according to my daughter, Ginny, I should view as important. But I've spent enough time staring at death; I don't want to think ... [+]
I slipped into some rusty overalls to go
parading around town and when I came home
sputtering evening with coal in my hair
my wife said, You're not my husband, you're a train
and who was I to disagree?
So I went to the rail yard,
had a good sleep, and towed three tons
of bricks to Bismarck,
for which the locals were quite grateful.