I Take You And Pile High The

I Take You And Pile High The Memories. Death Will Break Her Claws On Some I Keep.

Ordering A Man To Write A Poem Is Like Commanding A Pregnant Woman To Give Birth To A Red-headed Child.

Poetry Is A Search For Syllables To Shoot At The Barriers Of The Unknown And The Unknowable.

Where Was I Going? I Puzzled And Wondered About It Til I Actually Enjoyed The Puzzlement And Wondering.

Come Clean With A Child Heart Laugh As Peaches In The Summer Wind Let Rain On A House Roof Be A Song Let The Writing On Your Face Be A Smell Of Apple Orchards On Late June.