I Had Been Alone More Than I

That Afternoon My Mother Had Brought Me The Roses. "save Them For My Funeral," I'd Said.

Tonight I Am Ugly. I Have Lost All Faith In My Ability To Attract Males, And In The Female Animal That Is A Rather Pathetic Malady . . . I Don't Care About Anyone, And The Feeling Is Quite Obviously Mutual. What Is It That Makes One Attract Others?

They Had To Call And Call And Pick The Worms Off Me Like Sticky Pearls.

Your Body Hurts Me As The World Hurts God

Although, I Admit, I Desire, Occasionally, Some Backtalk From The Mute Sky, I Can't Honestly Complain: A Certain Minor Light May Still Lean Incandescent Out Of Kitchen Table Or Chair As If A Celestial Burning Took Possession Of The Most Obtuse Objects Now And Then --