Her violence frightened me. She always claimed that I was the jealous one, and I was often jealous, but when I saw things working against me I simply became disgusted and withdrew. Lydia was different. She reacted. She was the Head Cheerleader at the Game of Violence.

I am a poem. There is no way out.

It will rain all this night and we will sleep transfixed by the dark water as our blood runs through our fragile life.

and our few good times will be rare because we have the critical sense and are not easy to fool with laughter

But my whole life has been a matter of fighting for one simple hour to do what I want to do. There was always something getting in the way of my getting to myself.

pain is absurd because it exists, nothing more.

Most people are not ready for death, theirs or anybody elses.