I Am Crazy As Hell, But I

Thumbs Grow Into My Throat. I Wear Slaps Like A Spot Of Rouge.

I Am Tearing The Feathers Out Of The Pillows, Waiting, Waiting For Daddy To Come Home And Stuff Me So Full Of Our Infected Child That I Turn Invisible, But Married, At Last.

All I Am Is The Trick Of Words Writing Themselves.

There Is Hope. There Is Hope Everywhere. Today God Give Milk And I Have The Pail.

She Is So Naked And Singular. She Is The Sum Of Yourself And Your Dream. Climb Her Like A Monument, Step After Step. She Is Solid.