Many people don’t realize that I’m a published poet. Admittedly, none of my poems have more than five lines…

A dour old dwarf named Fritz
Was burned right where he sits.
That happens, they say,
When you get in the way
Of a dragon just as he spits
-Published in Dragon Magazine #95

A poor mystery writer named Beth
At her mailbox, drew her last breath.
Not from sharpshooting skills
Or poison, just bills.
The poor thing was dunned to death.
-Published in Spring 1995 Murderous Intent Mystery Magazine

A rugged detective named Nick
A series of villains did lick
Never took his reward
From dames who were forward
‘Cause Nick was a real private dick.
-Published in Spring 1995 Murderous Intent Mystery Magazine

An eager detective named Rocky
Encountered a crook in Milwaukee.
As he started to run
He misfired his gun.
Next time, he won’t be so cocky.
-Published in Spring 1995 Murderous Intent Mystery Magazine