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I will ask you again...Why should children cry? Isn't
enough to make them whimper a little? Don't hit them in
their bread-baskets. Don't pull their tabs and their
dolly-danglers. Look, you make them cowardly,
miserable, mean to deal with. I watch them as they pour
from the tenements and perceive that hardly any of
them have correct posture. Some of them stoop like
elderly veterans - others limp like wounded cattle.
They're not in the pen yet....nobody's built the fences!
Anyway...there's still air to breathe and a sun in the sky.
The orb floats cloud-wards. There's an anthem, a song
of hope for the streets. It's a beautiful song, a thickened
wholesome chorus that denies all stupid sentiment. The
tongues are all together. The mouths are open and
close to a new startling rhythm. It's like a cup final but
without the stupid banners and the silly writings on
cheap cloth. The dull-faced clerks and obnoxious
warlords are running for cover. No choice....