That's How It Is With

I Have Two Rules. One Is, Never Trust A Man Who Smokes A Pipe. The Other Is, Never Trust A Man With Shiny Shoes.

Death Meant Little To Me. It Was The Last Joke In A Series Of Bad Jokes.

It’s So Easy To Be Easy—if You Let It.

I Have Seen Too Many Men Wilt And Go Silly Under A Little Light, And Then They Continue To Write And Get Published, Turning Out Pure Crap Under A Name That Has Become A Bad Habit. The Next Poem Is All That Counts. You Can't Stand On Past Poems.

It Is All Ash And Dry Leaves And Grief Gone Like An Ocean Liner.