I'll Tell You About It Because I

A Friend Came Over To The House A Few Days Ago And Read One Of My Poems. He Came Back Today And Asked To Read The Same Poem Over Again. After He Finished Reading It, He Said, It Makes Me Want To Write Poetry.

We Looked Like A Parade Barely Moving Toward You Might Get Lost.

Burn All The Maps To Your Body. I'm Not Here Of My Own Choosing.

Sometimes Life Is Merely A Matter Of Coffee And Whatever Intimacy A Cup Of Coffee Affords.

I Daydream About A High School Where Everybody Plays The Harmonica: The Students, The Teachers, The Principal, The Janitor And The Cook In The Cafeteria.