We Are Awakening From The Dream Of

All The Lousy Little Poets Coming Around Trying To Sound Like Charles Manson.

Any Of The Decisions That I Made, If One Could Actually Locate A Shape Or Form, Were All Within A Wall, The Landscape Of Music.

She Was Made Of Flesh And Eyelashes.

I've Forgotten Most Of What I've Read And, Frankly, It Never Seemed Very Important To Me Or To The World.

I Couldn't Feel So I Learned To Touch.