I Don't Think I Write

Living In England Has No Such Excuse: These Are My Customs And Establishments.

Walk With The Dead For Fear Of Death.

Why Should I Let The Toad Work Squat On My Life? Can't I Use My Wit As A Pitchfork And Drive The Brute Off? Six Days Of The Week It Soils With Its Sickening Poison-- Just For Paying A Few Bills! That's Out Of Proportion.

What Are Days For? Days Are Where We Live.

I Don't Think I Write Well - Just Better Than Anyone Else.