1. I hunt wild game along the freeways and in the strip malls of dead American cities. I cloak my disease in a raincoat and take long naps between dumpsters. A little rain on my scalp makes the dreams grow.
2. I map dead cities. I plot headaches and nausea. Beer is more comforting than religion--though I do enjoy drinking in ruined churches. I sit by the window at night and watch the radio tower lights blinking over the countryside. Please give me hope, neon crosses, pages of a Bible stuck together, liquor stores that never close.