You can't figure out why I'm mad? How about because I had my tongue between your legs two days ago, or the fact we both almost overdosed on orgasms, or maybe it's because I got a fucking hard on the minute you walked in that conference room door? Take your pick... there are a variety of reasons why I'm mad.

If you kiss me and then leave again to go write anothertwangy song,_ she said, eyes closed, lips barely moving, __ swear to God, I will snap that guitar in half and feed it to you for breakfast.___ou use the prettiest words.

& love is an evil word. Turn it backwards/see, see what I mean? An evol word.

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

My job as a poet, is not to succumb to despair but to find in words, an antidote for the emptiness of existence.

To write a poem you must have a streak of arrogance-- not in real life I hope. In real life try to be nice. It will save you a hell of a lot of trouble and give you more time to write.