God bless Henry. He lived like a rat,

with a thatch of hair on his head

in the beginning.

Henry was not a coward. Much.

He never deserted anything; instead

he stuck, when things like pity were thinning.

So may be Henry was a human being.

Let’s investigate that.

… We did; okay.

He is a human American man.

That’s true. My lass is braking.

My brass is aching. Come & diminish me, & map my way.

God’s Henry’s enemy. We’re in business … Why,

what business must be clear.

A cornering.

I couldn’t feel more like it. —Mr. Bones,

as I look on the saffron sky,

you strikes me as ornery.