Remember The Movements That Don't Look Like

Every Book I Write, The First Thing I Have To Do Is Get Into The Voice, And The Voice Varies From Book To Book - That's Part Of What's Interesting To Me.

There's Plenty Of Stuff That I Don't Feel Dissident About: I Really Like Tea, I Don't Have Any Problem With That. I Like Lots Of Paintings.

In Time, In Time They Tell Me, I'll Not Feel So Bad. I Don't Want Time To Heal Me. There's A Reason I'm Like This. I Want Time To Set Me Ugly And Knotted With Loss Of You, Marking Me. I Won't Smooth You Away. I Can't Say Goodbye.

If You're Brave Enough To Try, You Might Be Able To Catch A Train From Unlondon To Parisn't, Or No York, Or Helsunki, Or Lost Angeles, Or Sans Francisco, Or Hong Gone, Or Romeless.

There Is No Knowing Beyond That Membrane, The Meniscus Of Death. What Can Be Seen From Here Is Distorted, Refracted. All We Can Know Are Those Untrustworthy Glimpses--that And Rumour. The Prattle. The Dead Gossip: It Is The Reverberation Of That Gossip Against The Surface Tension Of Death That The Better Mediums Hear. It Is Like Listening To Whispered Secrets Through A Toilet Door. It Is A Crude And Muffled Susurrus.