When People Are Finding Meaning

Mr Earbrass Stands On The Terrace At Twilight. It Is Bleak; It Is Cold; And The Virtue Has Gone Out Of Everything. Words Drift Through His Mind: Anguish Turnips Conjunctions Illness Defeat String Parties No Parties Urns Desuetude Disaffection Claws Loss Trebizond Napkins Shame Stones Distance Fever Antipodes Mush Glaciers Incoherence Labels Miasma Amputation Tides Deceit Mourning Elsewards.

I Really Think I Write About Everyday Life. I Don't Think I'm Quite As Odd As Others Say I Am.

Only Art Means Anything.

Books, Cats, Life Is Good.

I Feel That I Am Doing The Minimum Amount Of Damage To Other Possibilities That May Take Place In A Reader's Head.