(his)Stories

I was born in New York City on December 17, 1943.

As of this writing, I have not yet died.

That, alas, comprises all the stories I have time for right now . . . but please check back in a few weeks—months?—years??—when there will be a few more.

If, that is, the second sentence above still holds true at that time . . .

2 replies on “(his)Stories”

Birthday Poem

. . . . . . . May your BirtHday go forth,
. . . . . . . . . as the spray of Firth,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . say,
. . . . . .While a ray of EArthday Shines,
. in The bright Sun of Perth . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Pray!
. . . . . . . . . . . Make no dearth, Hey!
. . . . . . of great mirth, Yay, hooray!

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