Things will be far worse than they are now. And far better. I wait.

They laughed. Things were funny. They weren't afraid to care. There was no sense to life, to the structure of things.

I have a face like a washrag. I sing love songs and carry steel. I would rather die than cry. I can't stand hounds can't live without them. I hang my head against the white refrigerator and want to scream like the last weeping of life forever but I am bigger than the mountains.

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

love be damned now as love was damned when it first arrived.

It's hot tonight and half the neighborhood is drunk. the other half is dead. if I have any advice about writing poetry it's - don't. I'm going to send out for some fried chicken.

nothing can save you except writing. it keeps the walls from failing.