The Saints Come, As Human As A

Sorrow Is Easier Than Guilt.

It Was As If A Morning-glory Had Bloomed In Her Throat, And All That Blue And Small Pollen Ate Into My Heart, Violent And Religious

Earth, Earthriding Your Merry-go-roundtoward Extinction,right To The Rootsthickening The Oceans Like Gravy,festering In Your Caves,you Are Becoming A Latrine.

It Would Be Pleasant To Be Drunk.

Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm Borrowed. Now I'm Numb.