The Finest Act Of Seeing

I Think That's What Finally Stopped Me. I Slid Right To The Edge. My Legs Were Hanging Over. And I Could Feel It Too. I Don't Know How. There Was No Wind, No Sound, No Change Of Temperature. There Was Just This Terrible Emptiness Reaching Up For Me.

Sublime Is Something You Choke On After A Shot Of Tequila.

Maturity, One Discovers, Has Everything To Do With The Acceptance Of ‘not Knowing.

Very Soon He Will Vanish Completely In The Wings Of His Own Wordless Stanza. [ ] But His Stanza Is Not Completely Empty [ * ]

Stories Heard But Not Recalled. Letters Too. Words Filling My Head. Fragmenting Like Artillery Shells. Shrapnel, Like Syllables, Flying Everywhere. Terrible Syllables. Sharp Cracked. Traveling At Murderous Speed. Tearing Through It All In A Very, Very Bad Inreparable Way.