This poem is describing what happens at night, the sounds, smells, and eyes that keep watch. The moon glides through the night sky until time to fade into daylight.

Read and comment please.

A satirical country song.

Hope.

How I experienced racism in London in the early 1950’s when I brought my first car.

Late nights in a diner. You know who you are.

Just a conversation between a couple.

A poem about smoking the sacred herb. I gave it the title of a song lyric by Bob Marley that states “None but ourselves can free our minds.”

Don’t let Bud Light and Wal-Mart tell you how to feel.

Pool den’s are so strange and dim lit. It’s just a strange thought train I had one time that evolved into this sort of story. It’s kind of wierd but I can imagine it happening. Read it and please comment.