She Was Not Used To Being Cruel,

Who Are You? The Band Sang. I Tried To Remember But I Really Couldn't Say.

I'm Always Gratified When I Check Something I've Made Up And Discover That I've Gotten It Right. How Can We Imagine Something That Turns Out To Be True? How Can We Know Things We Couldn't Possibly Know? It Makes Me Wonder About The Existence Of A Collective Unconscious.

We Don't Have A Unitary Society Anymore, You Know; It's Very Fragmented. I Look Up And Down My Block In Silverlake And There Is A Different Universe In Every House.

They Dream Of Men With Gentle Hands, Eloquent With Tenderness, Fingers That Brushed Along A Cheek, That Outlined Open Lips In The Lovers' Braille. Hands That Sculpted Sweetness From Sullen Flesh, That Traced Breast And Ignited Hips, Opening, Kneading. Flesh Becomes Bread In The Heat Of Those Hands, Braided And Rising.

She Would Buy Magic Every Day Of The Week. Love Me, That Face Said. I'm So Lonely, So Desperate. I'll Give You Whatever You Want.