The Marriage Twists, Holds Firm, A Sailor's

Thumbs Grow Into My Throat. I Wear Slaps Like A Spot Of Rouge.

I Am Teaching... This Year It's Kind Of Like Having A Love Affair With A Rhinoceros.

It Is A Dead Heart. It Is Inside Of Me. It Is A Stranger Yet Once It Was Agreeable, Opening And Closing Like A Clam.

The Silence Is Death. It Comes Each Day With Its Shock To Sit On My Shoulder, A White Bird, And Peck At The Black Eyes And The Vibrating Red Muscle Of My Mouth.

Stop The Darkness And Its Amputations And Find The Real Mccoy In The Private Holiness Of My Hands.