Life tells me…

I’m going to force you to live.

You play a safe game. That’s nothing to announce.

You are already too cautious.

I’m not going to make you more comfortable, by giving you what you want.

No.

No.

No.

That is the sound you need to hear, screamed by Catholic girls

in a nudist choir.

You are ridiculous. I’m not going to contribute to that.

Climb a mountain, if you think it’s lonely, but you’ll probably just feel the chill.

Live the simple life. I’m not going to make it complicated for you.

Work in the rain, and take a hot bath, and get into a warm bed, and ask me in the morning, if you really need love.

Have your time stolen from you, until you value it, more than money.

Grow a beard, walk into church, smoke a cigarette, and read philosophy

while listening to the pastor say…

“Evil men smoke, they have beards, and they enjoy reading too many books.”

Fame rots the Brain. Did my dentist say that?

No.

It was a nobody.

If you can’t trust yourself, you can’t trust anybody.

Live your life,

and then write about it,

and not the other way around.

Poetry is a shout from your soul—

it’s pure joy

it’s all my pain, put to good use

It comes from living.

Nobody wants to read made-up words.