The Worst Thing For A Writer Is

I Went To The Worst Of Bars Hoping To Get Killed But All I Could Do Was To Get Drunk Again.

You Are Thirty Minutes Late." "yes." "would You Be Thirty Minutes Late To A Wedding Or A Funeral?" "no." "why Not, Pray Tell?" "well, If The Funeral Was Mine I'd Have To Be On Time. If The Wedding Was Mine It Would Be My Funeral.

Erections, Ejaculations,exhibitions And General Tales Of Ordinary Madness.

We Waste Days Like Mad Blackbirds And Pray For Alcoholic Nightsour Silk-sick Human Smiles Wrap Around Us Like Somebody Else's Confetti

I Have Loved You Woman As Surely As I Have Named You Rust And Sand And Nylon.