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If a horse has four legs, and I'm riding it, I think I can win.

I dreamed you a field of running horses, Selah. For you, Bianca, a balloon the size of the sky, my body a kite you can throw into the air.Pull me by string and horse.Tell me everything won't end in death. That everything doesn't end with February. Dead wildflowers wrapped around a crying baby's throat.I've slowed my heartbeat to three beats a minute. I've redrawn the clouds into birds, a fox chasing them into the mountains.I'm going to move my hand today.I vomit ice cubes.There's a ghost next to me.Get up, Dad.(Light Boxes)
I was morose that the Era of Barack Obama has returned us to a period where everything is racist, everyone is walking on eggshells, and you get the moral preening from white liberals who don't actually even know any black people. But, oh, do they love to get on their high horses and accuse Republicans of being racist for opposing very liberal government policies and a very liberal Democratic president. It's an extension of the civil rights label being slapped on gay marriage and abortion. Allow me to be bi-partisan for a moment, and love this moment because it won't last long.

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