If Life's A Joke, Then Suicide's A

I Spend My Time Dwelling On Revenge And Try To Deal With The Monsters Crawling Out Of The Ashes.

How Come We've Got These Bodies? They Are Frail Supports For What We Feel. There Are Times I Get So Hemmed In By My Arms And Legs I Look Forward To Getting Past Them. As Though Death Will Set Me Free Like A Traveling Cloud... I'll Be Out There As A Piece Of The Endless Body Of The World Feeling Pleasures So Much Larger Than Skin And Bones And Blood.

To Be Of Mixed Blood Is A Great Gift For A Writer. I Have One Foot On Tribal Lands And One Foot In Middle-class Life.

All Of Our Actions Have In Their Doing The Seed Of Their Undoing.

...grandpa's Mind Had Left Us, Gone Wild And Wary. When I Walked With Him I Could Feel How Strange It Was. His Thoughts Swam Between Us, Hidden Under Rocks, Disappearing In Weeds, And I Was Fishing For Them, Dangling My Own Words Like Baits And Lures.