I Dream Of Lost Vocabularies That Might

The Heart Lies To Itself Because It Must.

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.

I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing As He Fell, But Just Coming To The End Of His Triumph.

Why Do So Manysettle For So Little? I Don't Understand Why They're Not Greedy For What's Inside Them.

How Astonishing It Is That Language Can Almost Mean, And Frightening That It Does Not Quite.