Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude And fled to the silence of sweet solitude.
Poems Chiefly from ManuscriptOne day at a time, sweet Jesus. Whoever wrote that one hadn’t a clue. A day is a fuckin’ eternity
Paula SpencerThe machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far from the old sweet things.
Poor WhiteCan we have breakfast now? No matter how sweet it is, a man can’t live on pussy alone.
A White Hot Christmas: Novella