Inside Many Of Us Is A Small

Only My Books Anoint Me, And A Few Friends, Those Who Reach Into My Veins.

Once Upon A Time We Were All Born, Popped Out Like Jelly Rolls Forgetting Our Fishdom, The Pleasuring Seas, The Country Of Comfort, Spanked Into The Oxygens Of Death.

To Tell The Truth Days Are All The Same Size And Words Aren't Much Company.

As A Writer One Has To Take The Chance On Being A Fool.

I've Grown Tired Of Love You Are The Trouble With Me I Watch You Walk Right By