We Are Great Writers On The Same

Nobody Saves America By Sniffing Cocaine. Jiggling Your Knees Blankeyed In The Rain, When It Snows In Your Nose You Catch Cold In Your Brain.

Naked In Solitary Prison Cell He Looks Down At A Hard-on.

The Real America That Whitman Proclaimed And Thoreau Decoded.

Sometime I’ll Lay Down My Wrath, As I Lay My Body Down Between The Ache Of Breath And Breath, Golden Slumber In The Bone.

I Never Dreamed The Sea So Deep, The Earth So Dark; So Long My Sleep, I Have Become Another Child. I Wake To See The World Go Wild.