Write the unpublishable.. .and then publish it.

Sometimes what I wouldn't give to have us sitting in a bar again at 9:00 a.m. telling lies to one another, far from God.

And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you.

I knew every raindrop by its name.

All these weirdos, and me getting a little better every day right in the midst of them. I had never known, never even imagined for a heartbeat, that there might be a place for people like us.

That world! These days it's all been erased and they've rolled it up like a scroll and put it away somewhere. Yes, I can touch it with my fingers. But where is it?

English words are like prisms. Empty, nothing inside, and still they make rainbows.