Long Ago, Among Other Lies They Were

I Never Met Another Man I'd Rather Be. And Even If That's A Delusion, It's A Lucky One.

But As God Said, Crossing His Legs, I See Where I Have Made Plenty Of Poets But Not So Very Much Poetry.

I Went Home Each Night Dizzy And Sick. He Was Murdering Me With The Sound Of His Voice.

It Will Rain All This Night And We Will Sleep Transfixed By The Dark Water As Our Blood Runs Through Our Fragile Life.

T Was Almost Disappointing Because It Seemed When Stress And Madness Were Eliminated From My Daily Life There Wasn't Much Left You Could Depend On.