I Have Been Cut In

It's All A Matter Of History. Brandy Is No Solace. Librium Only Lies Me Down Like A Dead Snow Queen. Yes! I Am Still The Criminal.

The Silence Is Death. It Comes Each Day With Its Shock To Sit On My Shoulder, A White Bird, And Peck At The Black Eyes And The Vibrating Red Muscle Of My Mouth.

One Of My Secret Instructions To Myself As A Poet Is "whatever You Do, Don't Be Boring."

For Forty Days, For Forty Nights Jesus Put One Foot In Front Of The Other And The Man He Carried, If It Was A Man, Became Heavier And Heavier.

The Marriage Twists, Holds Firm, A Sailor's Knot.