When You're A Kid, It's Hard To

My Backyard Was Replete With Madness, It Just Grew Indigenously In South Florida.

It Is A Special Kind Of Homelessness To Be Evicted From Your Dreams.

Hopes Were Wallflowers. Hopes Hugged The Perimeter Of A Dance Floor In Your Brain, Tugging At Their Party Lace, All Perfume And Hems And Doomed Expectation. They Fanned Their Dance Cards, These Guests That Pressed Against The Walls Of Your Heart.

At The End Of The Block Where I Used To Live In Coconut Grove In Miami, There's A Swampy Area, A No-name Alcove With A Little Mangrove Estuary. It's Beautiful.

I Think That's The Real Horror Story For Me, How Little You Can Ever Really Know About Your Own Motivations. How In The Dark We All Are About The Concerns And The Contents Of Our Minds.