We Do Know That No One Gets

Time Is The Water In Which We Live, And We Breathe It Like Fish. ... Time Pours Into Us And Then Pours Out Again. In Between The Two Pourings We Live Our Destiny.

How Come We've Got These Bodies? They Are Frail Supports For What We Feel. There Are Times I Get So Hemmed In By My Arms And Legs I Look Forward To Getting Past Them. As Though Death Will Set Me Free Like A Traveling Cloud... I'll Be Out There As A Piece Of The Endless Body Of The World Feeling Pleasures So Much Larger Than Skin And Bones And Blood.

If, As I Suspect, My Body Survives By Uttering Itself Over And Over Again, Then I Have Some Questions. If [i] Am One Word, So Are My Daughters, So Are All Of Us In Strings And Loops. Each Life Is One Short Word Slowly Uttered.

Love Won't Be Tampered With, Love Won't Go Away. Push It To One Side And It Creeps To The Other. Throw It In The Garbage And It Springs Up Clean. Try To Root It Out And It Only Flourishes. Love Is A Weed, A Dandelion That You Poison From Your Heart. The Taproots Wait. The Seeds Blow Off, Ticklish, Into A Part Of The Yard You Didn't Spray. And One Day, Though You Worked, Though You Prodded Out Each Spiky Leaf, You Lift Your Eyes And Dozens Of Fat Golden Faces Bob In The Grass.

I Always Have Some Way Of Putting The Stories Together That Works For The Book. I've Always Switched Points Of View In My Books. I'm A Gemini.