The most recent voice I've fiddled with
is one that I had the most trouble with.
It's a young fellow that I call Ludi, Jr.,
and I try to explain him-- that's his picture there.
I try to explain him on the back cover.
As a young fellow trying to tell the truth,
thus he is roughly the first half of ludicrous.
So I call him Ludi Jr. Ludacris Jr. Half scamp, half prodigy,
half imp-- if you can imagine all three halves making
the whole--
whose mind takes off in various directions.
And I'd like to read just two or three of these.
Most of them have rather long titles.
I was Messing with the long title.
During the sermon Ludi, Jr. Dreams of the girl in the next
pew.
How her long blonde hair must follow her everywhere.
When she sits down the hair settling itself in
place not daring to move until spoken to.
When she enters the dime store, the hair reaching out and down
to examine the cold cream.
In Potter's grocery, the hair polishing the apples,
catching their fire.
And at night, oh, at night, the tipends sparking the linen.