"We’ve been skyscraped and fistfucked, star-torn and reborn in a baptism of fire that would make little sense to the uninitiated or, for that matter, to our former selves."

"Come on, you mangled fucker, I gestured. Time to end to it once and for all. Make my day. No one will ever be able to touch you for it."

"Standing my ground, I sighed into the viewfinder as I waited for the ironic conclusion to this outlandish haiku of breath and flesh, the dulling brush of limbs, the mildly apologetic grunt."

"Now, more than ever, we need far-out angels flitting about in technicolor all over the fucking place, while the dull gods in dark suits are doing their best to nail us to the cross of compliance."

"Everything around us was covered in a fine, cotton candy frost. The whole scene had a surreal and eerily peaceful feel about it, like waking up in a hospital bed after a drunken night gone bad."

"The palms that shot out from the frayed sleeves were calloused, as if they wrestled day and night with some terrible iron angel I could never comprehend. The wrists were impossibly thin."

"Delivered from sleep, I was the infinite outcast, the wandering fool, my eyes renewed by nocturnal angels. I marveled at the secrets that made flowers flourish in their tidy beds, the stoic indifference of idle playgrounds shone through painted steel."