To Me Art (poetry) Is A Continuous

It Was Hard For Me To Believe. When Recess Was Over I Sat In Class And Thought About It. My Mother Had A Hole And My Father Had A Dong That Shot Juice. How Could They Have Things Like That And Walk Around As If Everything Was Normal, And Talk About Things, And Then Do It And Not Tell Anybody?

Terror Finally Becomes Almost Bearable But Never Quite Terror Creeps Like A Cat Crawls Like A Cat Across My Mind

Style Is The Answer To Everything. A Fresh Way To Approach A Dull Or Dangerous Thing

I Kept Telling Myself That All The Women In The World Weren´t Whores, Just Mine.

Poetry Is What Happens When Nothing Else Can.