I Get Rational When I Panic.

I Know That Homes Burn And That You Should Think What To Save Before They Start To. Not Because, In The Heat Of It, Everything Looks As Valuable As Everything Else. But, Because Nothing Looks Worth The Bother, Not Even Your Life.

I Assemble Stories-me And A Hundred Million Other People-at The Sentence Level. Not By Coming Up With A Sweeping Story Line.

I Told Him About The Way They Get To Know You. Not The Way People Do, The Way They Flatter You By Wanting To Know Every Last Thing About You, Only It Isn't A Compliment, It Is Just Efficient, A Person Getting More Quickly To The End Of You. Correction - Dogs Do Want To Know Every Last Thing About You. They Take In The Smell Of You, They Know From The Next Room, Asleep, When A Mood Settles Over You. The Difference Is There's Not An End To It.

I Sleep With A Glass Of Water On The Nightstand So I Can See By Its Level If The Coastal Earth Is Trembling Or If The Shaking Is Still Me.

We Can Only Die In The Future, I Thought; Right Now We Are Always Alive.