I Knew It Would Be

Those Who Escape Hell However Never Talk About It And Nothing Much Bothers Them After That

My Heart Is A Thousand Years Old. I Am Not Like Other People.

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.

Insanity Is Relative. Who Sets The Norm?

I Used To Lay Drunk In Alleys And I Probably Will Again.bukowski, Who Is He? I Read About Bukowski And It Doesn't Seem Like Anything To Do With Me.