Singing ****

YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock walloper, Those grappling hooks, those wheelbarrow handlers, The dome and the wings of you, ****, The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from. I know why God listens to your, 'Walk All Over God's Heaven.' I heard you shooting craps, 'My baby's going to have a new dress.' I heard you in the cinders, 'I'm going to live anyhow until I die.' I saw five of you with a can of beer on a summer night and I listened to the five of you harmonizing six ways to sing, 'Way Down Yonder in the Cornfield.' I went away asking where I come from.