I don’t consider my verse to be genuine, not unlike the gems from my favourites: Walt Whitman, Dorothy Parker and Pablo Neruda. Mine is more akin to a series of strung-together words that resemble free flowing thought. I never set out in my writing career to focus on poetry. I literally woke up one day with raunchy erotica pouring out of me. Soon I discovered I couldn’t stop until I had surpassed the mark of writing over six hundred. Writers are obsessively strange creatures. Eventually the verse evolved into prose but every so often, I scratch out a new ditty. Read the sample chapters and if you like what you see, treat yourself to a copy. I’ve also provided a smattering of some of my short stories.
