In The Nights Sometimes Now

You Are Either Born A Writer Or You Are Not.

I Tried To Put Things In Perspective But Sometimes You're Just Too Close To It.

I Look For The Words, Professor. I Look For The Words Because I Believe That The Words Is The Way To Your Heart.

The World Shrinking Down About A Raw Core Of Parsible Entities. The Names Of Things Slowly Following Those Things Into Oblivion. Colors. The Names Of Birds. Things To Eat. Finally The Name Of Things One Believed To Be True. More Fragile Than He Would Have Thought. How Much Was Gone Already? The Sacred Idiom Shorn Of Its Referents And So Of Its Reality. Drawing Down Like Something Trying To Preserve Heat. In Time To Wink Out Forever.

When The Lies Are All Told And Forgot The Truth Will Be Their Yet.