Yes I Try To Kill

Death's In The Good-bye.

Man Is A Bird Full Of Mud, I Say Aloud. And Death Looks On With A Casual Eye And Scratches His Anus.

Stop The Darkness And Its Amputations And Find The Real Mccoy In The Private Holiness Of My Hands.

There Is No Word For Time. Today We Will Not Think To Number Another Summer Or Watch Its White Bird Into The Ground.

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.