It's a little mad, but I believe I am many people. When I am writing a poem, I feel I am the person who should have written it.
Death's in the good-bye.
It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
The body is a damn hard thing to kill.
Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
life is a trick, life is a kitten in a sack.