stay with the beer. beer is continuous blood. a continuous lover.

I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.

The years have gone by quickly. Death sits in the seat next to me. We make a lovely couple.

It was too much. The comfortable people made comfortable jokes about weather and things but I sat mostly silent saying a word or so when necessary a word or so trying to hide from them the fact that I was a fool and feeling terrible And I was numb, numb again, numb again again and again, numbness and pain swelling in me.

I couldn't get myself to read the want ads. The thought of sitting in front of a man behind a desk and telling him that I wanted a job, that I was qualified for a job, was too much for me. Frankly, I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed. So I stayed in bed and drank. When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn't have you by the throat.

Love dries up, I thought as I walked back to the bathroom, even faster than sperm.

places to hunt places to hide are getting harder to find, and pet canaries and goldfish too, did you notice that?