Purification In Fire. Public Cremation

Isn't It Funny.i'm Enjoying My Hatred So Much More Than I Ever Enjoyed Love. Love Is Temperamental. Tiring. It Makes Demands. Love Uses You, Changes Its Mind. But Hatred, Now, That's Something You Can Use. Sculpt. Wield. It's Hard, Or Soft, However You Need It. Love Humiliates You, But Hatred Cradles You.

Love's An Illusion. It's A Dream You Wake Up From With An Enormous Hangover And Net Credit Debt. I'd Rather Have Cash.

It's All I Ever Really Wanted, That Revelation. The Possibility Of Fixed Stars.

The Santa Anas Blew In Hot From The Desert, Shriveling The Last Of The Spring Grass Into Whiskers Of Pale Straw. Only The Oleanders Thrived, Their Delicate Poisonous Blooms, Their Dagger Green Leaves. We Could Not Sleep In The Hot Dry Nights, My Mother And I.

Oleander Time, She Said. Lovers Who Kill Each Other Now Will Blame It On The Wind.