Fear / A Motor, / Pumps Me

It Was My First Doll That Water Went Into And Water Came Out Of Much Earlier It Was The Diaper I Wore And The Dirt Thereof And My Mother Hating Me For It

My Eyes, Those Sluts, Those Whores, Would Play No More.

I'm The Crazy One Who Thinks That Words Reach People.

Once I Was Beautiful. Now I Am Myself, Counting This Row And That Row Of Moccasins Waiting On The Silent Shelf.

I Would Like A Simple Life / Yet All Night I Am Laying / Poems Away In A Long Box.