I'm In A Constant Process Of Thinking

The Bookstore Was A Parking Lot For Used Graveyards. Thousands Of Graveyards Were Parked In Rows Like Cars. Most Of The Books Were Out Of Print, And No One Wanted To Read Them Any More And The People Who Had Read The Books Had Died Or Forgotten About Them, But Through The Organic Process Of Music The Books Had Become Virgins Again.

My Teachers Could Easily Have Ridden With Jesse James For All The Time They Stole From Me.

A Boat O Beautiful Was The Werewolf In His Evil Forest. We Took Him To The Carnival And He Started Crying When He Saw The Ferris Wheel. Electric Green And Red Tears Flowed Down His Furry Cheeks. He Looked Like A Boat Out On The Dark Water.

In A Cafe" I Watched A Man In A Cafe Fold A Slice Of Bread As If He Were Folding A Birth Certificate Or Looking At The Photograph Of A Dead Lover.

I Had A Good-talking Candle Last Night In My Bedroom. I Was Very Tired But I Wanted Somebody To Be With Me, So I Lit A Candle And Listened To Its Comfortable Voice Of Light Until I Was Asleep.