UNREAD POEMS

Stand-by for News Bulletin!!..............Watch for crawl across page, that's me crawling.

I started writing in the womb. The only thing was, it was hard to see.
I do intend to write in the grave. I have instructed my kin to leave
a flashlight in the coffin and a pen and paper.
A jug of wine,
A loaf of bread,
and a couple of batteries.
(Great poetry is like an eveready, mine is corroded).

News-There is none.

* These poems are dedicated to my psychiatrist who has never given up hope---
that one day, I would stop coming to his office.
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