It's So Easy To Print In The

My Voice And Movements Are Restricted By The Things I Own.

Nothing Again. No One Is Listening. No One Is Waiting To Hear The Kicking Of A Man Above. It Is Unexpected. You Have No Ears For Someone Like Me.

He Remained, Weeks After Awakening, In That Period Of Early-morning Consciousness That Allows Easy Re-entry To Dreaming. His Limbs Still Tingled With The Residue Of Sleep, And Most Days He Wanted Badly To Allow It To Overtake Him Again.

It Was Always Difficult To Get Cattle Returned Once A Marriage Was Dissolved.

This Boy Thinks I Am Not Of His Species, That I Am Some Other Kind Of Creature, One That Can Be Crushed Under The Weight Of A Phone Book. The Pain Is Not Great, But The Symbolism Is Disagreeable.