I burn the way money burns.

I am alone here in my own mind. There is no map and there is no road. It is one of a kind just as yours is.

Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.

I burn the way money burns.

Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.

Today life opened inside me like an egg.

For I could not read or speak and on the long nights I could not turn the moon off or count the lights of cars across the ceiling.