There Is More Than One Good Way

I Collected Men With Interesting Names. I Already Knew A Socrates. He Was Tall And Ugly And Intellectual And The Son Of Some Big Greek Movie Producer In Hollywood, But Also A Catholic, Which Ruined It For Both Of Us.

The Blood Jet Is Poetry And There Is No Stopping It.

What A Man Wants Is A Mate And What A Woman Wants Is Infinite Security.

I Felt My Lungs Inflate With The Onrush Of Scenery—air, Mountains, Trees, People. I Thought, "this Is What It Is To Be Happy.

Oh What A Poet I Will Flay Myself Into.