Her sunny side was always up.

God-forsaken is beautiful, too.

One day Time will die And love will bury it

Our names were made for us in another century.

All of us have a place in history. Mine is clouds.

I'm in a constant process of thinking about things.

I don't know these people and they aren't my flowers.

The bees in my stomach are dead and getting used to it.

I'll tell you about it because I am here and you are distant.

We looked like a parade barely moving toward YOU MIGHT GET LOST.

Burn all the maps to your body. I'm not here of my own choosing.

I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.

There are not too many fables about man's misuse of sunflower seeds.

It's pretty hard to have faith when everybody is trying to lock you up.

I'll think about things for thirty or forty years before I'll write it.

Excuse me, I said. I thought you were a trout stream. I'm not, she said.

For fear you will be alone you do so many things that aren't you at all.

The heart is something else. Nobody knows what's going to happen,' I said

Language does not leave fossils, at least not until it has become written.

I have always wanted to write a book that ended with the word 'mayonnaise.

He created his own Kool Aid reality and was able to illuminate himself by it.

It's strange how the simple things in life go on while we become more difficult.

I don't want my daughter to be educated. I think women should just be decorative.

I wonder if there are any catfish in this pond? It seems like a perfect place for them.

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee affords.

My teachers could easily have ridden with Jesse James for all the time they stole from me.

Finding is losing something else. I think about, perhaps even mourn, what I lost to find this

In Watermelon Sugar the deeds were done and done again as my life is done in watermelon sugar.

The time is right to mix sentences with dirt and the sun with punctuation and rain with verbs.

He learned about life at sixteen, first from Dostoevsky and then from the whores of New Orleans.

You've got some 'Star-Spangled' nails in your coffin, kid. That's what they've done for you, son.

I feel as if I am an ad for the sale of a haunted house: 18 rooms $37,000 I’m yours ghosts and all.

Reduce intellectual and emotional noise until you arrive at the silence of yourself and listen to it.

I’ll affect you slowly as if you were having a picnic in a dream. There will be no ants. It won’t rain.

There are seductions that should be in the Smithsonian Institute, right next to The Spirit of St. Louis.

I didn't know the full dimensions of forever, but I knew it was longer than waiting for Christmas to come.

All girls should have a poem written for them even if we have to turn this goddamn world upside down to do it.

Boo, Forever Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I'm haunted by all the space that I will live without you.

If you get hung up on everybody else's hang-ups, then the whole world's going to be nothing more than one huge gallows.

We walked back to iDEATH, holding hands. Hands are very nice things, especially after they have travelled back from making love.

I thought about it for awhile, hiding it from the rest of my mind. But I didn't ruin my birthday by secretly thinking about it too hard

The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster When you take your pill it's like a mine disaster. I think of all the people lost inside you.

In a Cafe" I watched a man in a cafe fold a slice of bread as if he were folding a birth certificate or looking at the photograph of a dead lover.

If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer. That is my name.

Love Poem ـــــــــ It's so nice to wake up in the morning all alone and not have to tell somebody you love them when you don't love them any more.

I do not care to be esthetically tickled in a fancy theater surrounded by an audience drenched in the confident perfume of culture. I can't afford it.

the Coleman lantern is the symbol of the camping craze that is currently sweeping America, with its unholy white light burning in the forests of America.

I daydream about a high school where everybody plays the harmonica: the students, the teachers, the principal, the janitor and the cook in the cafeteria.

"I count a lot of things that there's no need to count," Cameron said. "Just because that's the way I am. But I count all the things that need to be counted."

I saw thousands of pumpkins last night come floating in on the tide, bumping up against the rocks and rolling up on the beaches; it must be Halloween in the sea

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