In all the smashed cats on the road days ofhungover afternoons, and empty pocketmornings, one constant wherever I waswere the trips to the library.I read most everything back then:HamsunHemingwaySteinbeckFitzgeraldEugene O’Neill, and Gogol,and always Bukowski.They were my lighthouse in theabysmal...

I sleep with mytop hat on these days.It keeps the rabbits fromcrawling out and runningaway.They are the safest close tomy brain when I sleep.I don't want them eaten byferal swine or to wanderoff and drown in a vat of...

When I’m depressed I go to sleep.It does me well for awake I’m quiet anyway.Psychosis is so beautiful yet so terrible.I don’t ever want to wake up again.Because whenever I’m awakePsychosis pulls me into darkness.So, I go to sleep!...

Unsighted eyes these are!Blind with hallucinationsyet so perceptive of beauty.I cannot recognize reality,yet surrealism takes a definite form to me.I don’t want to live like this forever.It is not at all what I imaginedwhen I was very young.I dreamed...