When The Phone Rings I Too Would

Don't Be Ashamed Of Anything; I Guess God Meant It All Like Locks On Doors.

In The Cupboard Sits My Bottle Like A Dwarf Waiting To Scratch Out My Prayers. I Drink And Cough Like Some Idiot At A Symphony, Sunlight And Maddened Birds Are Everywhere, The Phone Rings Gamboling Its Sound Against The Odds Of The Crooked Sea; I Drink Deeply And Evenly Now, I Drink To Paradise And Death And The Lie Of Love.

I Have No Time For Things That Have No Soul.

Love Iz A Big Fat Turkey And Every Day Iz Thanksgiving

Poetry Is What Happens When Nothing Else Can.