I Do Not Believe In Evil- I

In More Static Societies, Like Ireland, You Can Tell Where A Person Is From By Their Surname, Or Where Their Grandparents Are From.

We Have Lost The Art Of Public Tenderness, These Small Gestures Of Wiping And Washing; We Have Forgotten How Abjectly The Body Welcomes A Formal Touch.

The Truth. The Dead Want Nothing Else. It Is The Only Thing That They Require.

I Am A Trembling Mess From Hip To Knee. There Is A Terrible Heat, A Looseness In My Innards That Makes Me Want To Dig My Fists Between My Thighs. It Is A Confusing Feeling - Somewhere Between Diarrhoea And Sex - This Grief That Is Almost Genital.

I Think Writers Worry That You Might Not Exist In Some Strange Way If You're Not Writing.