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, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.

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

Bad taste creates many more millionaires than good taste.

If you let them kill you, they will

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

I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.

I don't know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I think, Jesus Christ, now what?