Big Heart, Wide As A Watermelon, But

Abundance Is Scooped From Abundance Yet Abundance Remains.

It's All A Matter Of History. Brandy Is No Solace. Librium Only Lies Me Down Like A Dead Snow Queen. Yes! I Am Still The Criminal.

God Has A Brown Voice, As Soft And Full As Beer.

We Talked Death With Burned-up Intensity, Both Of Us Drawn To It Like Moths To An Electric Light Bulb. Sucking On It!

I Burn The Way Money Burns.