Everyone Forgets Icarus Also Flew.

I'm Vain Enough To Think That I've Made A Successful Life. I've Had Everything I've Ever Wanted. You Can't Beat That.

Are The Angels Of Her Bed The Angels Who Come Near Me Alone In Mine? Are The Green Trees In Her Window The Color Is See In Ripe Plums? If She Always Sees Backward And Upside Down Without Knowing It What Chance Do We Have? I Am Haunted By The Feeling That She Is Saying Melting Lords Of Death, Avalanches, Rivers And Moments Of Passing Through, And I Am Replying, "yes, Yes. Shoes And Pudding.

I Dream Of Lost Vocabularies That Might Express Some Of What We No Longer Can.

We Are Resident Inside With The Machinery, A Glimmering Spread Throughout The Apparatus. We Exist With A Wind Whispering Inside And Our Moon Flexing. Amid The Ducts, Inside The Basilica Of Bones. The Flesh Is A Neighborhood, But Not The Life.

I Would Say Pittsburgh Softly Each Time Before Throwing Him Up. Whisper Pittsburgh With My Mouth Against The Tiny Ear And Throw Him Higher. Pittsburgh And Happiness High Up. The Only Way To Leave Even The Smallest Trace. So That All His Life Her Son Would Feel Gladness Unaccountably When Anyone Spoke Of The Ruined City Of Steel In America. Each Time Almost Remembering Something Maybe Important That Got Lost.