“They're always telling me I'm too angry
Especially when I mention land theft or rape or genocide
They go to therapy to understand themselves
pound anonymous pillows safely with a stranger
in the closed room of improper behavior
There is
no pillow I’m angry with.”

“If you look at what's going on in terms of unity, the Bernie people are angry. They're angry. He was angry. What was amazing to me is when she was talking about Bernie last night, the camera was on him and he was angry. It almost looks like he has buyer's remorse, like he shouldn't have made the deal.”

“Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.”

“Now I’m going to make you angry again.”

“I’m too tired to be angry enough
Angry that I can’t go anyplace
without seeing demeaning images and outright lies about Indian people
I’m livid that we can’t even keep the few pitiful acres we have left
if they happen to have uranium or copper or coal.”

“Despite serious reservations, I had to forgive Finnick for his role in the conspiracy that landed me here. He, at least has some idea of what I'm going through. And it takes too much energy to stay angry with someone who cries so much.”

“Listerine hurts, man; when I put Listerine in my mouth, I'm fuckin' angry. Germs do not go quietly.”

“Before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.”

““Now I’m going to make you angry again.”
“Really?” I asked, drily. “Aren’t you getting tired of that?””

“When I fall Short of Words, My existence becomes speechless, searches for words passing here and there, in the hope that they may be found. When I ask someone to know about my words, it tells me the place of their mind, maybe some people are angry with me, who often do not mention me even once in their words.”