The Things That Break Your

I Can't Even Trust My Own Imaginary Dog. How Much Lower Can A Person Get?

I'm A Century Old, An Impossible Age, And My Brain Has No Anchor In The Present. Instead It Drifts, Nearly Always To The Same Shore. Today, As Most Days, It Is 1962. The Year I Discovered Love.

Somewhere Along The Line I'd Lost The Will Not To Eat.

While Working In Advertising, I Channelled My Creative Energy Into Elaborate Escape Fantasies: Cake Making, Dog Breeding, The Peace Corps.

The Soldier Had Stamped My Passport Family In Heavy Black Capital Letters And I Checked It Now For Reassurance And Because I Liked How Fierce The Word Looked