He Was His Own Leftover, The Spat-out

Nobody Wanted Your Dance, Nobody Wanted Your Strange Glitter, Your Floundering Drowning Life And Your Effort To Save Yourself, Treading Water, Dancing The Dark Turmoil, Looking For Something To Give.

He Could Not Stand. It Was Not That He Could Not Thrive, He Was Born With Everything But The Will – That Can Be Deformed, Just Like A Limb. Death Was More Interesting To Him. Life Could Not Get His Attention.

The Wolf Is Living For The Earth.

There Is No Better Way To Know Us Than As Two Wolves, Come Separately To A Wood.

The Bush Administration Doesn't Particularly Like Public Participation. It Makes Them Look Bad.