I'm a liar in poetry and scoundrel in practice a deceiver recieving my pittance in prose. A lyrical master, the prodigal son of a word rhyming tactic thats second to none. Roll down the windows, turn up the heat. It's another confrontation in the arizona streets. One rhyme lines and two word stories and no longer trying to please one and all. Jumping or leaping they dont treat you different when here all that matters is how fast you fall. Singing a journey and crying the end a once steady progress reduced to a crawl and tripping on wires or slipping on ice arent as different as one would assume after all. .Steve