Once I Was Beautiful. Now I Am

I Burn The Way Money Burns.

All Considerations For These Human Remains! They Must Have An Escort! They Are Classified!

My Sleeping Pill Is White. It Is A Splendid Pearl; It Floats Me Out Of Myself, My Stung Skin As Alien As A Loose Bolt Of Cloth.

I Wonder If The Artist Ever Lives His Life--he Is So Busy Recreating It.

And If I Tried To Give You Something Else, Something Outside Myself, You Would Not Know That The Worst Of Anyone Can Be, Finally, An Accident Of Hope