Our Names Were Made For Us In

Elizabeth's Voice Had A Door In It. When You Opened That Door You Found Another Door, And That Door Opened Yet Another Door. All The Doors Were Nice And Led Out Of Her.

I’ll Affect You Slowly As If You Were Having A Picnic In A Dream. There Will Be No Ants. It Won’t Rain.

The Sun Was Like A Huge 50-cent Piece That Someone Had Poured Kerosene On And Then Had Lit With A Match, And Said, "here, Hold This While I Go Get A Newspaper," And Put The Coin In My Hand, But Never Came Back.

Im Haunted A Little This Evening By Feelings That Have No Vocabulary And Events That Should Be Explained In Dimensions Of Lint Rather Than Words. Ive Been Examining Half-scraps Of My Childhood. They Are Pieces Of Distant Life That Have No Form Or Meaning. They Are Things That Just Happened Like Lint.

He Learned About Life At Sixteen, First From Dostoevsky And Then From The Whores Of New Orleans.