It Is Possible To Imagine

I Know That Homes Burn And That You Should Think What To Save Before They Start To. Not Because, In The Heat Of It, Everything Looks As Valuable As Everything Else. But, Because Nothing Looks Worth The Bother, Not Even Your Life.

I Told Him About The Way They Get To Know You. Not The Way People Do, The Way They Flatter You By Wanting To Know Every Last Thing About You, Only It Isn't A Compliment, It Is Just Efficient, A Person Getting More Quickly To The End Of You. Correction - Dogs Do Want To Know Every Last Thing About You. They Take In The Smell Of You, They Know From The Next Room, Asleep, When A Mood Settles Over You. The Difference Is There's Not An End To It.

We Can Only Die In The Future, I Thought; Right Now We Are Always Alive.

Sometimes A Flat-footed Sentence Is What Serves, So You Don't Get All Writerly: 'he Opened The Door.' There, It's Open.

I Have Written Letters That Are Failures, But I Have Written Few, I Think, That Are Lies. Trying To Reach A Person Means Asking The Same Question Over And Over Again: Is This The Truth, Or Not? I Begin This Letter To You, Then, In The Western Tradition. If I Understand It, The Western Tradition Is: Put Your Cards On The Table.