I Cannot Walk An Inch / Without

The Grass As Bristly And Stout As Chives And Me Wondering When The Ground Will Break And Me Wondering How Anything Fragile Survives

Not That It Was Beautiful, But That, In The End, There Was A Certain Sense Of Order There; Something Worth Learning In That Narrow Diary Of My Mind

When They Turn The Sun On Again I'll Plant Children Under It, I'll Light Up My Soul With A Match And Let It Sing.

Man Is A Bird Full Of Mud, I Say Aloud. And Death Looks On With A Casual Eye And Scratches His Anus.

Those Moments Before A Poem Comes, When The Heightened Awareness Comes Over You, And You Realize A Poem Is Buried There Somewhere, You Prepare Yourself. I Run Around, You Know, Kind Of Skipping Around The House, Marvelous Elation. It’s As Though I Could Fly.