Once I Was A Couple. I Was

Craft Is A Trick You Make Up To Let You Write The Poem.

Thief!- How Did You Crawl Into, Crawl Down Alone Into The Death I Wanted So Badly And For So Long.

There Is Joy In All: In The Hair I Brush Each Morning, In The Cannon Towel, Newly Washed, That I Rub My Body With Each Morning.

I Think I've Been Writing Black Poems All Along, Wearing My White Mask. I'm Always The Victim ... But No Longer!

God Went Out Of Me As If The Sea Dried Up Like Sandpaper, As If The Sun Became A Latrine.