I was their bar freak, they needed me to make themselves feel better. just like, at times, I needed that graveyard.

The world had somehow gone too far, and spontaneous kindness could never be so easy.

I guess we often get the deep blues, both of us, and wonder what it all means- the people, the buildings, the day by day things, the waste of time, of ourselves.

I'm only interested in poetry.

An early taste of death is not necessarily a bad thing.

there is moss on the walls and the stain of thought and failure and waiting

I broke that town in half like a wooden match.