Inside Us, A Flower Taken Whole, A

I Offer Emily Half Of My Hit Of Acid- Love Saves The Day. It's My Second Or Third Time Tripping, Emily's First, And She's Understandably Trepid. Awake All Night, At One Point I Find Her Touching Her Reflection In A Cruelly Lit Dorm Bathroom, Asking If She'll Ever Be The Same. I Kiss Her Then For The First Time And Whisper, No.

By The Time I'm Nine I Know The World Is A Dangerous Place. I've Heard Whispers About Razorblades In Apples, About Charlie Manson And His Family. But No One Is Offering Any Clear Information.

There Is A Physics To The World, Which Non-fiction Has A Contract To Stand In Awe Of, Otherwise It Becomes Completely Self-centered And Ego-driven, Which Is The Death Of A Memoir.

Alcohol Is The River We Sit On The Banks Of, Contemplating. Sometimes We Watch Ourselves Float Past, Sometimes We Watch Ourselves Sink.

Writers, Especially Poets, Are Particularly Prone To Madness.