There Is A Good Look That I

I Wonder If The Artist Ever Lives His Life--he Is So Busy Recreating It.

You Must Be A Poet, A Lady Of Evil Luck Desiring To Be What You Are Not, Longing To Be What You Can Only Visit.

The Boys And Girls Are One Tonight. They Unbutton Blouses. They Unzip Flies. They Take Off Shoes. They Turn Off The Light. The Glimmering Creatures Are Full Of Lies. They Are Eating Each Other. They Are Overfed. At Night, Alone, I Marry The Bed.

I'll Vacuum Up My Stale Hair, I'll Pay All My Neighbors' Bad Debts, I'll Write A Poem Called Yellow And Put My Lips Down To Drink It Up.

My Faith Is A Great Weight Hung On A Small Wire, As Doth The Spider Hang Her Baby On A Thin Web.