No. -1

  Critique is no less essential to the artist’s soul than water.

  It is-

  mmmm(I am no artist.)

  -a good thing.

  ~

  No. -2

  If I could paint, I would immortalize your features

  In the sky: gold over blue,

  So that everyone could share in my laughter;

  For how absurd is it that you-

  -in all your perfection.

  -exist beside me.

  ~

  No. -3

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  We or I,

  All the same die-

  -the world won’t end, regardless.

  ~

  No. -4

  Peculiarly enough, I don’t think much of love-

  -or so I might have said, were I the lying sort.

  If such a thing as the soul exists, then surely-

  -and verily, I do proclaim: that love is:

  Sickness and wealth.

  ~

  No. -5

  The words will come.

  You need only open your heart to the truth.

  ~

  No. -6

  Let freedom ring from the highest mountaintops, but first know:

  You are a slave to the machine, stuck:

  Consent was never given.

  ~

  No. -7

  There is no glory in needlessly fighting battles where one might run.

  So calm yourself.

  Drink and be merry a few blocks south of the drunk.

  ~

  No. -8

  There is a sword in your heart;

  Steel or iron, maybe bronze-

  -probably rusted,

  Assuredly sheathed.

  Let it remain there, inert.

  Our world has little need of blades.

  ~

  No. -9

  In the frozen December air, I taste:

  Cold.

  ~

  No. -10

  I-

  -am

  -or was

  -and might have been

  Alone, once.

  But that was-

  -now

  -then

  -and possibly before

  I looked inside.

  Without Explanation:

  No. -9

  No. -3