When People Are Finding Meaning In Things

Mr Earbrass Stands On The Terrace At Twilight. It Is Bleak; It Is Cold; And The Virtue Has Gone Out Of Everything. Words Drift Through His Mind: Anguish Turnips Conjunctions Illness Defeat String Parties No Parties Urns Desuetude Disaffection Claws Loss Trebizond Napkins Shame Stones Distance Fever Antipodes Mush Glaciers Incoherence Labels Miasma Amputation Tides Deceit Mourning Elsewards.

Only Art Means Anything.

Explaining Something Makes It Go Away, So To Speak; What's Important Is Left After You Have Explained Everything Else.

I Feel That I Am Doing The Minimum Amount Of Damage To Other Possibilities That May Take Place In A Reader's Head.

I Am A Person Before I Am Anything Else. I Never Say I Am A Writer. I Never Say I Am An Artist...i Am A Person Who Does Those Things.