It Was My Last Act Of Love

The Artist's Life Nourishes Itself On The Particular, The Concrete.

A Little Thing, Like Children Putting Flowers In My Hair, Can Fill Up The Widening Cracks In My Self-assurance Like Soothing Lanolin.

Is There No Way Out Of The Mind?

The Sheets Grow Heavy As A Lecher's Kiss.

If You Dissect A Bird / To Diagram The Tongue, / You'll Cut The Chord / Articulating Song.