The Bees In My Stomach

A Friend Came Over To The House A Few Days Ago And Read One Of My Poems. He Came Back Today And Asked To Read The Same Poem Over Again. After He Finished Reading It, He Said, It Makes Me Want To Write Poetry.

Love Poem ـــــــــ It's So Nice To Wake Up In The Morning All Alone And Not Have To Tell Somebody You Love Them When You Don't Love Them Any More.

We Walked Back To Ideath, Holding Hands. Hands Are Very Nice Things, Especially After They Have Travelled Back From Making Love.

Boo, Forever Spinning Like A Ghost On The Bottom Of A Top, I'm Haunted By All The Space That I Will Live Without You.

I Wonder If There Are Any Catfish In This Pond? It Seems Like A Perfect Place For Them.