..you Wanted To Be The

When Things Get Really Bad, Just Raise Your Glass And Stamp Your Feet And Do A Little Jig. That's About All You Can Do.

All Men Will Be Sailors Then Until The Sea Shall Free Them

Gift You Tell Me That Silence Is Nearer To Peace Than Poems But If For My Gift I Brought You Silence (for I Know Silence) You Would Say This Is Not Silence This Is Another Poem And You Would Hand It Back To Me

This Mental Space Is Occupied And Everything Is Mine.

Love Is A Fire/it Burns Everyone/it Disfigures Everyone/it Is The World's Excuse For Being Ugly.