Perhaps The Only Misplaced Curiosity Is That

Smokers, Male And Female, Inject And Excuse Idleness In Their Lives Every Time They Light A Cigarette.

Don't Cudgel Your Brains Over My Little Problems.

A Few Days Later, I Found My Mother Beneath The Tree, Motionless With Excitement, Her Head Turned Toward The Heavens In Which She Would Allow Human Religions No Place.

At The Top Of The Iron Staircase Leading To The Stage, The Good, Dry, Dusty Warmth Wraps Me Round Like A Comfortable Dirty Cloak.

No One Asked You To Be Happy. Get To Work.