It’s a standard cliché:  It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.  They’re all starting to learn the truth about me.  They suddenly discover that I’m being pursued by a dominatrix and one of my most famous early poems is about a prostitute.  There were the hiking ventures while tripping balls and madness to boot.  They’re all askance at the sudden revelations.  I suppose I was always viewed as a paragon of virtue and integrity.  Suddenly, the seamy underbelly has been exposed.  The dark secrets of the hooligan revealed to all.


Quiet ones reading

hiding porn behind textbooks

silently sneering







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allets's picture

I just finished novel

Street novel Det 1965 - Cash Talks - as risque as I get. Funny too and fair winds raunchy. - S -



georgeschaefer's picture

I pulled the wool over their

I pulled the wool over their eyes again