Love. The Black Hook. The Spear Singing

I Tried Out The Unfamiliar Syllables. They Fit. They Cracked In My Ears Like A Fist Through Ice.

This So Gnawed At Him On Some Nights That He Lay Awake Wondering Just How Many Unknown And Similarly Inconsequential Accidents And Bits Of Happenstance Were At This Moment Occurring Or Failing To Occur In Order To Ensure He Took His Next Breath, And The Next.

I Was In Love With The Whole World And All That Lived In Its Rainy Arms.

By The Time I Was Done With The Car It Looked Worse Than Any Typical Indian Car That Has Been Driven All Its Life On Reservation Roads, Which They Always Say Are Like Government Promises - Full Of Holes.

Time Was Rushing Around Me Like Water Around A Big Wet Rock. The Only Difference Is, I Was Not So Durable As Stones. Very Quickly I Would Be Smoothed Away.