In your gut is an empire— Spells, tug of war, Holy Days, ascent, decline.

Every time I leave my parents’ ho… I am filled with a sweet sorrow. It has taken me half a lifetime to… and now I love them so dearly, so… They nor I are getting younger

There is a stream of what could have been which flows on with the same rate and newness of what is.

I saw him on the side of the road, on the side of the interstate exit… Maybe he was 18, definitely not 21… tired but not yet haggard. The moment I saw him

Nirvana is acquittal, wearing sweatpants in an empty cou… drunk, singing songs about the Southland. God has fashioned my heart like a…

Therein are the spoils of sorrow, the fruit of hardship, where wind snaps and prevails. Death whispers a hollow secret and I still a shiver

Nothing is all I ever wanted, now I’ve got it all! Careful! Lest I become a braggart… From nowhere it’s a hard fall.

Like a Somali pirate just pull up on the Grim Reaper, surprise him

If presented with the choice would the dinosaurs have allowed the asteroid or meteor to hit?

Brian told me he held his own guts in his hands, his tattoo reads: ALREADY DEAD.

Upon that special mound there is a cleanliness, a purity sanctimonious, something so perfect it’s numerological—

I would lie with my hand on the B… I would lie with my hand on a stac… of Holy Qurans. I would look you dead-in-the-eye, and tell you a lie.

The moment you flit by my ear, my strings are severed, I droop like a marionette— I remember I know nothing.

The choir of the saints is heartle… They’ve parried happiness a lifeti… seeking only the old earth, the marsh of the meek— where earnest suffering

Curling black from crematorium sta… tell me again the hoax of the soul… The cowl paces, pretends to be faceless, swinging silver and wafting saccha…