Bill Grace Poems

In fighting with wife
I've noticed the strife
Simply kicks everything else to hell.
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In the great cafeteria behind the Samson size pillars
I eat ice cream and write
The therapist has informed me
My daughter has learned guerilla warfare from me
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As we are dust
The first water of the day is not necessarily the best
Yet critical to all that will come
An anchor to help us against wind
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Cruising around the World Wide Web
Checking on who was stealing poetry
On the Russian site I noticed on the side column
'The Sea'
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1. Dad is always right. Dad is always wrong.
2. Dad is very loveable.
3. Love, love and puppy chow!
4. Spoil them and they will be picky about boys.
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I only use the title on the most starchy of occasions
Or when desperate to convey some semblance of propriety,
Or talking long distance with a bad connection or scared.
Hollywood does not like us
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When thingss settle down
I always seem to drift towards poetry.
The tock of clock calls to me
Money and its problems are still there
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Even as emperor I do not understand
It is all too crazy!
Something about eating the flesh of one who lives
A God come to earth I can handle
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A poem a day
All I have to say
From century's two third years
Upon this planet of tears
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