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On my resume I have an awards category. It has one entry. It is the highlight of my life. I’m not trying to impress you or make you overly jealous. I’m merely documenting. OK, so maybe I am gloating a bit. Here it is, exactly as it appears on my resume. “Awards: I won third place in the 100-yard dash in the fourth grade. I still carry around my green ribbon with me wherever I go. The ribbon is available for authenticity inspection upon request, and my fourth grade PE coach’s phone number can also be provided to corroborate the validity of my claim.” ↗
Although not a very old man, I have yet lived a great deal in my life, and I have known sorrow too bitter and joy too keen to allow me to become either cast down or elated for more than a very brief period over any success or defeat. ↗
My lovers suffocate me! Crowding my lips, and thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls...coming naked to me at night, Crying by day Ahoy from the rocks of the river...swinging and chirping over my head, Calling my name from flowerbeds or vines or tangled underbrush, Or while I swim in the bath....or drink from the pump on the corner....or the curtain is down at the opera.....or I glimpse at a woman’s face in the railroad car; Lighting on every moment of my life, Bussing my body with soft and balsamic busses, Noiselessly passing handfuls out of their hearts and giving them to be mine ↗
I hated waiting. If I had one particular complaint, it was that my life seemed composed entirely of expectation. I expected — an arrival, an explanation, an apology. There had never been one, a fact I could have accepted, were it not true that, just when I had got used to the limits and dimensions of one moment, I was expelled into the next and made to wonder again if any shapes hid in its shadows. ↗
