I Collect Men With Interesting

I Am Dead To Them, Even Though I Once Flowered.

How Can You Be So Many Women To So Many Strange People, Oh You Strange Girl?

The One Man In The Room Who Was As Big As His Poems, Huge, With Hulk And Dynamic Chunks Of Words.

I Love My Rejection Slips. They Show Me I Try.

Let Me Not Be Weak And Tell Others How Bleeding I Am Internally; How Day By Day It Drips, And Gathers, And Congeals.