Daisies in water are the longest lasting flower you can give to someone. Fact. Buy daisies. Not roses..

God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine. God went out of my fingers. They became stone. My body beca….

Look to your heart that flutters in and out like a moth. God is not indifferent to your need. You have a thousand prayers but God has one..

My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a thin web..

Maybe, although my heart is a kitten of butter, I am blowing it up like a zeppelin..

I think I've been writing black poems all along, wearing my white mask. I'm always the victim ... but no longer!.

At six I lived in a graveyard full of dolls, avoiding myself, my body, the suspect in its grotesque house..

I would like to bury all the hating eyes under the sand somewhere..

Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about Christmas. If they want to say something bad, they whisper..

My life has appeared unclothed in court, detail by detail, death-bone witness by death-bone witness, and I was shamed at the verdict..

Our eyes are full of terrible confessions..

Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb..

Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen..

But even in a telephone booth evil can seep out of the receiver and we must cover it with a mattress, and then tear it from its roots and bury it, bu….

I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God my typewriter believes in..

The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart..

Loving me with my shoes off means loving my long brown legs, sweet dears, as good as spoons; and my feet, those two children let out to play naked..

I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger..

Thumbs grow into my throat. I wear slaps like a spot of rouge..

My death from the wrists, two name tags, blood worn like a corsage to bloom one on the left and one on the right..

No matter whose bed you die in the bed will be yours for your voyage onto the surgical andiron of God..