Love? Be it man. Be it woman. It must be a wave you want to glide in on, give your body to it, give your laugh to it, give, when the gravelly sand takes you, your tears to the land. To love another is something like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.

I am teaching... This year it's kind of like having a love affair with a rhinoceros.

Psychiatry is a dirty mirror.

She suffers according to the digits of my hate. I hear the filaments of alabaster. I would lie down with them and lift my madness off like a wig. I would lie outside in a room of wool and let the snow cover me. Paris white or flake white or argentine, all in the washbasin of my mouth, calling “Oh.” I am empty. I am witless. Death is here. There is no other settlement.

Rejoice with the day lily for it is born for a day to live by the mailbox and glorify the roadside

Let there be seasons so that our tongues will be rich in asparagus and limes.

And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope