I've been to thebitter, dark placewhere dreams aredecorations indilapidated houses,a building haunted bythe ghosts of spring.I tasted the wine ofwhores and convictsthere.I've prayed with thebroken and wasted.I spentdays and months,almost forever withthe feral men andwomen of America inhomes not...

My friend asksme where I getthe fodder forwriting my poems.I tell him, life.He says that's toosimple.He isn't satisfied.I tell him thatsometimes, I sit atmy desk and openthe window above thelitterbox, and lookoutside at theorange daylilies andwait.He says he writesfrom...

Why does a world without you bring up feelings and thoughts i long to? Escape from your grip in the slightest sense of it gives hope for happiness so i’ll make sure of it. You can beat me senseless...