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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=340376" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love Song: I And Thou</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=340376" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nothing is plumb, level, or square: <br>the studs are bowed, the joists <br>are shaky by nature, no piece fits <br>any other piece without a gap <br>or pinch, and bent nails <br>dance all over the surfacing <br>like maggots. By Christ <br>I am no carpenter. I built <br>the roof for myself, the walls <br>for myself, the floors <br>for myself, and got <br>hung up in it myself. I <br>danced with a purple thumb <br>at this house-warming, drunk <br>with my prime whiskey: rage. <br>Oh I spat rage’s nails <br>into the frame-up of my work: <br>it held. It settled plumb, <br>level, solid, square and true <br>for that great moment. Then <br>it screamed and went on through, <br>skewing as wrong the other way. <br>God damned it. This is hell, <br>but I planned it, I sawed it, <br>I nailed it, and I <br>will live in it until it kills me. <br>I can nail my left palm <br>to the left-hand crosspiece but <br>I can’t do everything myself. <br>1 need a hand to nail the right, <br>a help, a love, a you, a wife.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Alan+Dugan">Alan Dugan</a></strong></div>

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