Images Are The Heart Of Poetry ...

I Am Your Dwarf. I Am The Enemy Within. I Am The Boss Of Your Dreams. See. Your Hand Shakes. It Is Not Palsy Or Booze. It Is Your Doppelganger Trying To Get Out. Beware...beware...

I Lay There Silently, Hoarding My Small Dignity. I Did Not Ask About The Gate Or The Closet. I Did Not Question The Bedtime Ritual Where, On The Cold Bathroom Tiles, I Was Spread Out Daily And Examined For Flaws. I Did Not Know That My Bones, Those Solids, Those Pieces Of Sculpture Would Not Splinter.

I Think Of Myself As Writing For One Person, That One Perfect Reader Who Understands And Loves.

If The Doctors Cure Then The Sun Sees It. If The Doctors Kill Then The Earth Hides It. The Doctors Should Fear Arrogance More Than Cardiac Arrest.

Every Time I Get Happy The Nana-hex Comes Through. Birds Turn Into Plumber's Tools, A Sonnet Turns Into A Dirty Joke, A Wind Turns Into A Tracheotomy, A Boat Turns Into A Corpse.