The Lawn Was White With Doctors

I Am Disabused Of All Faith, And See Too Clearly.

Your Body Hurts Me As The World Hurts God

I Am Inhabited By A Cry. Nightly It Flaps Out Looking, With Its Hooks, For Something To Love.

The Sheets Grow Heavy As A Lecher's Kiss.

I Had Imagined A Kind, Ugly, Intuitive Man Looking Up And Say, 'ah!' In An Encouraging Way, As If He Could See Something I Couldn't, And Then I Would Find Words To Tell Him How I Was So Scared, As If I Were Being Stuffed Farther And Farther Into A Black, Airless Sack With No Way Out.