The Trouble With Therapy Is That It

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

Women Tell Time By The Body. They Are Like Clocks. They Are Always Fastened To The Earth, Listening For Its Small Animal Noises.

I Suffer For Birds And Fireflies But Not Frogs, She Said, And Threw Him Across The Room. Kaboom! Like A Genie Out Of A Samovar, A Handsome Prince Arose In The Corner Of The Bedroom.

And The Aura Of You Remains, Remains, Remains...

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