To Know I Was Beautiful In His

I'm Incredibly Restless. I Read A Lot Of Poetry. I Also Find Myself Reading The First 20 Pages Of Everything, Looking For Something. And You Know What? I'm Usually Looking For The Book I'm Writing. And It's Not Out There!

I Think We're Starved For A Life Of The Senses. We're In The Garage, We're In The Car, We Drive To Work, We're In A Windowless Cubicle That's Gray And Beige. In A Way, It's Funny That We Consider Ourselves An Advanced Culture, Because People Who Live In So-called Primitive Environments Still Enjoy The Richness Of The Smells, Colors, And Sounds Of Our World. We All Crave That.

Inside Every Human Being, There Is Unlimited Time And Space.

I Wish My Life Could Be Like That, Knotted Up So That Even If Something Broke, The Whole Thing Wouldn't Come Apart.

The Word Rattled In My Head Like Rocks In An Oatmeal Box.