I Really Believe That Readers Are Smart

How Could She Ever Understand That There Isn't Any Way Could Be Disappointed Since I No Longer Find Anything Worth Looking Forward To?

At Columbus Circle, A Juggler Wearing A Trench Cloak And Top Hat, Who Is Usually At This Location Afternoons And Who Calls Himself Stretch Man, Performs In Front Of A Small, Uninterested Crowd; Though I Smell Prey, And He Seems Worthy Of My Wrath, I Move On In Search Of A Less Dorky Target. Though If He'd Been A Mime, Odds Are He'd Already Be Dead.

I Want To Take You Away From This," I Say, Motioning Around The Kitchen, Spastic. "from Sushi And Elves And... Stuff.

The Numbing Lists Of Things You Were Supposed To Have As An American To Make You Happy, Which Ultimately, Of Course, Don't. Those Aren't The Things That Make You Happy.

My Pain Is Constant And Sharp...this Confession Has Meant Nothing