I stuck to my chair.
James Stewart, Rear Window.
Curtain twitching.

Then Grace Kelly swanned in
In that unbelievable dress.
And Hitchcock made a cameo
As a fat man.

So I turned away from the window
And started watching you.

Sitting up at the break of dawn
Memoirs of the suicidal,
I geuss my father is by biggest idol
I wanna be like him -gone...

Call me strange
Like i walk around with a tec nine
Because i'm gonna take what's mine
And no i'm never going to change

So keep talking ****
See how that works out
I'll take you far away where they can't hear you shout,
And upside your head's where you're gonna get split

Still stompin'
Still taking ****
Still getting hit
Still not slippin'

288

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—Too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you know!

How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one’s name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!

"God is love."
Is He?
Because according to God,
the love I feel is a sin.
It's wrong to feel so loved.
Is God love when I write love poems for another woman?
When she holds my hand,
is He love then?
An understanding God accepts all love.
Is God love?