J.C. (1959 - )
Mr. C. enjoys fresh hops and, in fact, composes all his work while sitting in a vat of fresh stout, which he then serves to first-time houseguests. He has an uncanny ability to spot parking spaces and dreams of being reborn as an herb, preferably cilantro (aka coriander). Mr. C. is also partly to blame for the design of this site and was paid in food and ale.
- Is There Any Purpose to This Poem?
- Questions You Should Be Asking Yourself
- Shoot the Moon
- Where the Old Winding Road Twists
- 5800 Kelvin
- You Finish It
- Ku Ku # 1
- Ku Ku # 258
- Why My Idea for Cole Slaw Flavored Bubble Gum Didn't Fly
- So I Had That Dream Again
- You Say It's Your Birthday?
- the prose of cons