It Was A Rainy Night. It Was

If You Tell A True Story, You Can't Be Wrong.

Holding Up My Purring Cat To The Moon. I Sighed.

At Night I Closed My Eyes And Saw My Bones Threading The Mud Of My Grave.

It's All Too Much And Not Enough At The Same Time.

Oftentimes An Originator Of New Language Forms Is Called 'pretentious' By Jealous Talents. But It Ain’t Whatcha Write, It’s The Way Atcha Write It.