I Am Inside Someone Who Hates Me.

Who Has Ever Stopped To Think Of The Divinity Of Lamont Cranston?

An Evil Word It Is/ This Love.

Lately, I've Become Accustomed To The Way The Ground Opens Up And Envelopes Me Each Time I Go Out To Walk The Dog.

In America, Black Is A Country.

When I Die, The Consciousness I Carry I Will To Black People. May They Pick Me Apart And Take The Useful Parts, The Sweet Meat Of My Feelings. And Leave The Bitter Bullshit Rotten White Parts Alone.