A writer

Chooses her subject, The subject is if the writers choice, A ruler governs a subject, The writer a dyke chooses to write using a word that sounds like a word in exchange for another, Only one governs a poet, Its is not her audience anxious to be the word police, Each and every word utilized,

Chapter 3,Christmas

Marian D.(Bittenger)Heike my mom made every holiday special. Mom was a class act. Mom use to bother dad about a red head he dated once and how she was a lesbian. Mom and dad met on a blind date in Spencer at a bar. Mom was not a drinker. Mom’s first husband my half sisters

Chapter 1, Harmed more

My narcissistic half sister harmed me more and getting hit by a car. She cut my heart out she stole my family and she ruined my good name. A****** say let It go forget about it it was a long ago. It took her from 2:10 to 2:14 December 3rd to force our mother from

Ring-A,Ding damn!

Who the ##&$@ is it? Visiting Mr.Black and Sadie, One lap, Disagreeable cold cats, Ring-a Ding darn! It’s four am, Have to keep my table light on, Cats to close tomy eyes, Florida calling, Last time at five am! Bewilders the crap put of me, Can’t help me a simple poverty stricken poet leave poverty

Women are

Not appealing to me because, A lesbian friend thinks women of interest must all be, Not gifted or talented, To her they all need to be, Lesbian, I a lover of All women, See women first and foremost female, Second gifted, If there gay that’s A.O.K, But since I’m me and they are they we

Thanks for all who

Thanks for all who liked my Ride Share idea, Found no money, Not a soul cared transportation limited outside cities. Still penniless, Still seeking, Always a poet, Dreaming working, Trying to survive, Still loathe Iowa, Still doing best I can.

Loading matters,

I get frustrated especially at night, My days work loads to I can post it, Not, Nothing loads when the signal is continuously being interrupted by phone calls, I feel like Ahab’s whale, I tell people over and over this is what I do, I’m a blogger on YouTube and WordPress, If I’m up in

You had how many jobs?

Christ! Have people who ask that never lived in rural America? What does it matter how many starts life pitches foul balls? Jobs don’t make you you! I always wanted to write, Always heard you can’t make a living doing that, So far they, you know them busy not followung their dreams, Everyone has those

I look at death from both sides now!

Murdered by sister December 3rd,2014, Struck by car on horse.1976, Once more August 2008 on bike, He was 93, Took two letters to the Editor, Lynn Morrow retired attorney, After church one Sunday, Methodist Waukon,Iowa he now 95(2010), Drove into Jean Huffy’s little red convertible Finally someone took his license, Lynn never get a ticket,

What’s the mystery?

When I sleep, I sleep alone, When I read except for, Nicholas Sparks or Blackwell I stay clear sex, Straight romance is dry, Reading of a male with naked chest I think yuck, I read George R.R.Martin,Glenn Cook, Always been, Always shall be, Soft butch, Nope not into cars, Don’t care for flannle unless sheets,