To Appear Well Dressed, Be Skinny And

Seeing My Malevolent Face In The Mirror, My Benevolent Soul Shrinks Back.

The Tranquility Of My Room Partakes Too Much Of Forest Lawn.

The Desire To Create Literature Leads To Frights, Grunts, And Coy Looks.

We Often Mistake The Original Part Of Ourselves For A Weakness.

The Self-righteous Rule Out The Possibility That They Are What Has Gone Wrong.