The words and linesaren't coming today.I lie down for a nap.I dreamt of metaphorsand similes.I woke up.The years swim awaylike bass at spawningtime.

On our way intoSanta Anita one day,an old man had tippedover in his wheelchair.There was a pool of bloodbeneath his smooth head.I was with my Dad.He was around the sameage as the poor injured man.I was 12.Seeing that man,...

As nightmares subsideat dawn, your eyesreflect the fear and thepain.They spill a desire to try.Please try.You can walk in therain without an umbrellaand let the clover andhoneysuckle guide youto safety.Evict the chaos fromyour thoughts, andleave the incubus behind.

On the backs offlieswe wait for thenext thing.Something isalways coming.A birth or death,food or hungerhatredlaughterlove...Something is alwayscoming around thecorner.The Mad Hatter withmushroom tea.A strange color ofblue that tastes likealmonds.A vagina that sparklesin the night.Listless morningsof languidwalks with thewife in...