“Money Jungle” this song is called. Now there’s a piano stabbing my heart. Has he chosen betrayal? Does he want it to end — the war and the peace? But it’s so good in peacetime. It’s like nothing so sweet. No, nothing sweeter ever coursed through this name-and-form, nothing sweeter, nothing sweeter. So late, and he’s out still, punishing me. Prepare yourself, woman — it may be a long pain. Duke has it all in one hand, this tune. He has to be here in the morning, doesn’t he? My heart is tearing up like a wet white rose.
In Virginia I went in the woods under barbed wire, down the logging road and hung my jacket on a fence. Took the right fork through high grass that wet my shoes & legs & thought I’d die of joy this morning and have great grassy joy the rest of my hundred years. In Virginia I sit on an old falling- apart swing, look at Short Hills Mtn. & associated fields. The sun shines bright. What else could be wanted by city skin. This is the long end of time.