The femme poem.

Women out there I know you must look down upon me, for I have spoken out of line, yet it was not cocaine did I wiff, not any idea placed out of context, all in place with a dash of pizazz, you know where I'm at, but I'll be gone before long, what a cruel world, yet there is something else, you must know, though I jest, I am not second rate, simply I must confess this rubbish is the best!

The secret is music.


It would be an honor to be your bride.




The general opinion!


Never again..




Creepy Cards..


You are the fired one, to rip apart those documents in the bottom spot in the backyard, you groan,
It’s the gray mold in the shoe she eats, then devours more with a horde to make a toenail stew, your going to if, is that you stewing, dissed and repeating, with odd ears that dislikes poetry, and deep in,
Within the heart is destiny I go wherever and then debt collects to the ceiling.