A short story of a true event in my life.

Haiku.

A poem about farts.

My ode to Taco Bell Americanizing Mexican vulture.

This poem is like a school photo forced into posterity whether worthy or not. It was written because, well, writing is a pattern of behavior, a discipline for its own sake.

Two Kids bored start writing.

This peom is about the poeple who wanted me to be sad four ever.

Love sucks a lot of the time but it’s those few sacred moments that makes all the pain admissible.

Went to a prison to visit someone.

A haiku about buying dim sum.