Im haunted a little this evening by feelings that have no vocabulary and events that should be explained in dimensions of lint rather than words. Ive been examining half-scraps of my childhood. They are pieces of distant life that have no form or meaning. They are things that just happened like lint.

We looked like a parade barely moving toward YOU MIGHT GET LOST.

You've got some 'Star-Spangled' nails in your coffin, kid. That's what they've done for you, son.

The heart is something else. Nobody knows what's going to happen,' I said

Your Catfish Friend If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by one evening when the moon was shining down into my dark home and stand there at the edge of my affection and think, “It's beautiful here by this pond. I wish somebody loved me,” I'd love you and be your catfish friend and drive such lonely thoughts from your mind and suddenly you would be at peace, and ask yourself, “I wonder if there are any catfish in this pond? It seems like a perfect place for them.

I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.

He created his own Kool Aid reality and was able to illuminate himself by it.