If Life's A Joke, Then Suicide's A

He Despised His Body For Its Boring Hungers, Reflex Anger; Its Petty, Obliterating Rage. But Now He'd Become Detached. He Regarded His Body With A Tender Regret. It Was The Thing His Spirit Had To Haul.

I Was In Love With The Whole World And All That Lived In Its Rainy Arms.

By Writing I Can Live In Ways That I Could Not Survive.

The World Tips Away When We Look Into Our Children's Faces.

By The Time I Was Done With The Car It Looked Worse Than Any Typical Indian Car That Has Been Driven All Its Life On Reservation Roads, Which They Always Say Are Like Government Promises - Full Of Holes.