Death's In The Good-bye.

Evil Is Maybe Lying To God. Or Better, Lying To Love.

The Beautiful Feeling After Writing A Poem Is On The Whole Better Even Than After Sex, And That's Saying A Lot.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.

And What Of The Dead? They Lie Without Shoes In The Stone Boats. They Are More Like Stone Than The Sea Would Be If It Stopped. They Refuse To Be Blessed, Throat, Eye And Knucklebone.

... A Starving Man Doesn't Ask What The Meal Is.