Thank you, C.D. Wright. Seriously. Thank you.

Especially in this town. Everybody needs love. House love.
Dishes love. Moth-on-the-screendoor love, spot-on-the-wall
love. That's god's hand. Known as the persistence of vision, the
eyes' ability to perceive a series of still images as continuous
motion.


Don't those totems scare you, Thrasher.


Hell, nothing scares me but real life. Bite me you big-balled
boogie man.


What do you call those snakes with legs you make. I call them
river dogs. I get the wood off the river. So I call them river dogs.


Ghosts have hair you know. It flies in on silver operatic wings.


I hope he has not mutilated himself. Maybe he meant b-a-l-d.


She had painted her trailer skirt to read: COMING SOON Jesus
Christ in All His Glory. It's her trailer skirt, she can say what
she likes. What she feels. What she believes. What she sees
(Coming Soon).


Paint what you see. Undifferentiated dark. It is unlike night.


In the kingdom of cling peaches, firewords, red ants.


Odontokeratoprosthesis. Literally a tooth for an eye. A
gruesome procedure. I won't go into it. But when the painter
went to Barcelona for the operation the surgeon took the sutures
out of his lids and said, Too late. You will never see.


The lids sewn shut like pockets on a new jacket. You must smell
you way to Dover.


The ruin under the lids. Voices emanating from the emptiness.
The memory jug's ancestors.


I am sorry. I mean for no one to come to such harm. But
vulnerability in a man. I find it very appealing. Forgive me. I do
not mean to intrude. Whereas cowardice is commonplace.
Among men. Vulnerability it's a rarity.

from Deepstep Come Shining