Sometimes I Fly Like An Eagle But

No One To Hate Except The Slim Fish Of Memory That Slides In And Out Of My Brain.

God Went Out Of Me As If The Sea Dried Up Like Sandpaper, As If The Sun Became A Latrine. God Went Out Of My Fingers. They Became Stone. My Body Became A Side Of Mutton And Despair Roamed The Slaughterhouse.

Big Heart, Wide As A Watermelon, But Wise As Birth, There Is So Much Abundance In The People I Have.

I've Grown Tired Of Love You Are The Trouble With Me I Watch You Walk Right By

God Is Only Mocked By Believers.