And there I was, 225 pounds, perpetually lost and confused, short legs, ape-like upper body, all chest, no neck, head too large, blurred eyes, hair uncombed, 6 feet of geek, waiting for her.

I could never accept life as it was, I could never gobble down all its poisons bu there were parts, tenuous magic parts open for the asking.

If I never see you again I will always carry you inside outside on my fingertips and at brain edges and in centers centers of what I am of what remains.

one can never be sure whether it's good poetry or bad acid

There's music in everything, even defeat

We are all museums of fear.

I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love.