“Consummation Of GriefI even hear the mountainsthe way they laughup and down their blue sidesand down in the waterthe fish cryand the water is their tears.I listen to the wateron nights I drink awayand the sadness becomes so greatI hear it in my clockit becomes knobs upon my dresserit becomes paper on the floorit becomes a shoehorna laundry ticketit becomescigarette smokeclimbing a chapel of dark vines. . .it matters littlevery little love is not so bador very little lifewhat countsis waiting on wallsI was born for thisI was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.”

“i was born to hustle roses down the avenue of the dead.”

“I was glad I wasn't in love, that I wasn't happy with the world. I like being at odds with everything. People in love often become edgy, dangerous. They lose their sense of perspective. They lose their sense of humor. They become nervous, psychotic bores. They even become killers.”

“We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting”

“Some lose all mind and become soul,insane.some lose all soul and become mind, intellectual.some lose both and become accepted”

“The area dividing the brain and the soul Is affected in many ways by experience --Some lose all mind and become soul:insane.Some lose all soul and become mind:intellectual.Some lose both and become:accepted.”

“lay down. lay down like an animal and wait.”