... A Starving Man Doesn't Ask What

It Was As If A Morning-glory Had Bloomed In Her Throat, And All That Blue And Small Pollen Ate Into My Heart, Violent And Religious

Rejoice With The Day Lily For It Is Born For A Day To Live By The Mailbox And Glorify The Roadside

I Think It Will Be A Miracle If I Don't Someday End Up Killing Myself.

When I'm Writing, I Know I'm Doing The Thing I Was Born To Do.

Abundance Is Scooped From Abundance Yet Abundance Remains.