I am a poem. There is no way out.

when I was a boy I used to dream of becoming the village idiot. I used to lie in bed and imagine myself the happy idiot able to get food easily ...and easy sympathy, a planned confusion of not too much love or effort. some would claim that I have succeeded.

Drinking is another way of thinking, another way of living. It gives you two lives instead of one.

my beerdrunk soul is sadder than all the dead christmas trees of the world.

You just rebel against everything. How are you going to survive? I don't know. I'm already tired.

Long ago, among other lies they were taught that silence was bravery.

great books are the ones we need