Live or die, but don't poison everything.

Death, I need my little addiction to you. I need that tiny voice who, even as I rise from the sea, all woman, all there, says kill me, kill me.

We are America.We are the coffin fillers.We are the grocers of death.We pack them in crates like cauliflowers.The bomb opens like a shoebox.And the child?The child is certainly not yawning.And the woman?The woman is bathing her heart.It has been torn out of herand as a last actshe is rinsing it off in the river.This is the death market.America,where are your credentials?

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.