Dead Drunk Is The Term I Think

All The Oxygen Of The World Was In Them. All The Feet Of The Babies Of The World Were In Them. All The Crotches Of The Angels Of The World Were In Them. All The Morning Kisses Of Philadelphia Were In Them.

Man Is A Bird Full Of Mud, I Say Aloud. And Death Looks On With A Casual Eye And Scratches His Anus.

Poetry To Me Is Prayer.

Poetry Is My Life, My Postmark, My Hands, My Kitchen, My Face.

The Man Inside Of Woman Ties A Knot So That They Will Never Again Be Separate.