It’s Hard, In America, Not To Equate

Making Love To Aurelia Was Like Rummaging Through A Card Catalog In A Deserted Library, Searching For One Very Obscure, Little-read Entry On Hungarian Poetry.

His Characters Are Ravaged, Beaten. They Walk Through Infernos And Emerged Charred Doves.

I Was Aware Too How Strange Adults Were, How Theirs Lives Were Vaster Than They Wanted Anyone To Realize, That They Actually Stretched On And On Like Deserts, Dry And Desolate, With An Unpredictable, Shifting Sea Of Dunes.

It's Funny How The Night That Changes Your Life Forever Starts Out Like All The Others.

... Suddenly I Was A Kid In The Hall Standing Outside My Locker About To Head To Math. But That Was How It Went Sometimes, The English Language, When You Really Needed It, Crumbled To Clay In Your Mouth. That's When All The Real Things Were Said.