A Vacuum Can Only Exist, I Imagine,

Mr. Fitzgerald-i Believe That Is How He Spells His Name-seems To Believe That Plagiarism Begins At Home.

We Grew Up Founding Our Dreams On The Infinite Promise Of American Advertising. I Still Believe That One Can Learn To Play The Piano By Mail And That Mud Will Give You A Perfect Complexion.

Millie Beggs, By The Time She Was Forty-five, Had Become An Emotional Anarchist.

There Seemed To Be Some Heavenly Support Beneath His Shoulder Blades That Lifted His Feet From The Ground In Ecstatic Suspension, As If He Secretly Enjoyed The Ability To Fly But Was Walking As A Compromise To Convention.

The Sky Lay Over The City Like A Map Showing The Strata Of Things And The Big Full Moon Toppled Over In A Furrow Like The Abandoned Wheel Of A Gun Carriage On A Sunset Field Of Battle And The Shadows Walked Like Cats And I Looked Into The White And Ghostly Interior Of Things And Thought Of You And I Looked On Their Structural Outsides And Thought Of You And Was Lonesome.