Forget About What You Are

When Some Drunken Fool Asked If She Was A Lesbian, She Would Say, 'in Everything But Sexual Preference.

In The Immemorial Style Of Young Men Under Pressure, They Decided To Lie Down For A While And Waste Time.

I Don't Care What Is Written," Meyer Landsman Says. "i Don't Care What Supposedly Got Promised To Some Sandal-wearing Idiot Whose Claim To Fame Is That He Was Ready To Cut His Own Son's Throat For The Sake Of A Hare-brained Idea. I Don't Care About Red Heifers And Patriarchs And Locusts. A Bunch Of Old Bones In The Sand. My Homeland Is In My Hat. It's In My Ex-wife's Tote Bag.

His Dreams Had Always Been Houdiniesque: They Were The Dreams Of A Pupa Struggling In Its Blind Cocoon, Mad For A Taste Of Light And Air.

He Had No Idea Of How Long His Life Would One Day Seem To Have Gone On; How Daily Present The Absence Of Love Would Come To Feel. “just Watch Me,” He Said.