I Think Of Myself As Writing For

Oh, Darling, Let Your Body In, Let It Tie You In, In Comfort.

Once Upon A Time We Were All Born, Popped Out Like Jelly Rolls Forgetting Our Fishdom, The Pleasuring Seas, The Country Of Comfort, Spanked Into The Oxygens Of Death.

Now I Am Going Back And I Have Ripped My Hand From Your Hand As I Said I Would And I Have Made It This Far.

Meanwhile In My Head, I’m Undergoing Open-heart Surgery.

Inside Many Of Us Is A Small Old Man Who Wants To Get Out.