Like I'm Dragging Bundles Of Old Clothes?

They Will Say I Smoked Cigarettes And Marijuana, Cursed Hoarse As A Crow In All My Languages, And Loved Morphine And Demerol And Tequila And Pulque, Women And Men. I Will Shrug My Illusion Of Shoulders And Answer That I Am A Water Woman, Not A Vessel, Not Something You Can Sail Or Charter. I Am Instead The Tributary, The River, The Fluid Source, And The Sea Itself. I Am All Her Rainy Implications. And What Do You, With Your Rusted Compass, Know Of Love?

All Good Writing Is Built One Good Line At A Time. You Build A Novel The Same Way You Do A Pyramid. One Word, One Stone At A Time, Underneath A Full Moon While The Fingers Bleed.

To Be One Woman, Truly, Wholly, Is To Be All Women. Tend One Garden And You Will Birth Worlds.

I Knew A Book Of Mine Was Finished When I Was In Intensive Care.

Just Being In A Room With Myself Is Almost More Stimulation Than I Can Bear.