I’m Lost. And It’s My Own Fault.

Death, I Need My Little Addiction To You. I Need That Tiny Voice Who, Even As I Rise From The Sea, All Woman, All There, Says Kill Me, Kill Me.

The Marriage Twists, Holds Firm, A Sailor's Knot.

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

The Town Is Silent. The Night Boils With Eleven Stars. Oh Starry Starry Night! This Is How I Want To Die.

My Business Is Words. Words Are Like Labels, Or Coins, Or Better, Like Swarming Bees.