At the age of thirteen, I told my mother that I wanted to be a writer. She told me to fill my bucket and one day I will write. Fifty years later I published my first book COLLECTED CHAPBOOKS. In my twenties I was an absurdist because nothing made sense to me. It was the Vietnam era. I wrote a number of one act plays and one remains with us. BLISS ATOP A MOUNTAIN TOP was performed at Juneau Village Church in 1969. Back then, there were three of us: an artist, a musician and me. Jack played the flute and hanged himself. Tom was an artist and jumped off a bridge to his death. I am the only one left but we had great times together, haunting the backroads of the East Side of the Third Coast with songs. Now I write books regularly, about two a year. Technically they are called pRoems, an attempt at postmodern fiction. My earlier books were written in stream of consciousness.