So Much Of The Way Books Get

Somehow I Wasn't Adding Up Right Anymore. My Parts Weren't Summing Into Myself.

There Are Certain Prehistoric Things That Swim Beyond Extinction.

A Single Note, Held In An Amber Suspension Of Time, Like A Charcoal Drawing Of Icarus Falling. It Was Sad And Fierce All At Once, Alive With A Lonely Purity. It Went On And On, Until My Own Lungs Were Burning. “what Bird Are You Calling?” I Asked Finally, When I Couldn’t Stand It Any Longer. The Bird Man Stopped Whistling. He Grinned, So That I Could See All His Pebbly Teeth. “you.

I Do Think That I Have A More Flexible View Of The Interactions Between People, And Between Human And Non-human Protagonists, Humans And Their Landscapes.

I Didn’t Realize That One Tragedy Can Beget Another, And Another — Bright-eyed Disasters Flooding Out Of A Death Hole Like Bats Out Of A Cave.