Pina colada kisses and cocaine nipsnever lie, swear to me that this feeling is real.

She reminded me that I could write stories,/could be struck by lightning & live.

I am the red wheelbarrow of communism. William Carlos Williams wrote a poem about me.

From childhood's hour I have not beenAs others were; I have not seenAs others saw

The light needs only our trustAnd, of course, the darknessTo work its eternal alchemy.

If Erik existed and lived life in despair,We wish him to know we are here and we care.

For every moment of suffering,Others will arriveThat will instead pierce you with joy.

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

And was it his destined part / Only one moment in his life / To be close to your heart?

If you can keep your head when all about you/are losing theirs and blaming it on you...

Time moved for you not in quotidian beats, but in the slow rhythm the ages keep –

I've triedto become someone else for a while,only to discover that he, too, was me.

He offered his love ... she could not bother,She gives her love to the other! The other!

Every new dayOur children's joy is as fresh as roses,Even the birds chatter at dawn.

LIBERTY! FREEDOM! DEMOCRACY!True anyhow no matter how manyLiars use those words.