November 21, 2004
Watch out! He'll bring his fire.
June 4, 2004
We passed by and circled around each other for 15 years, and finally landed at each other's feet. He is my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. Okay, the rest of the poem is sad, but that part sums it up. He chats with me in the evening and wakes with a smile and a silly song. He can build anything, throws a hell of a theme party, has lots of toys; and always shares. He's responsible enough to own a business, but is still a complete freak. As delicious an export from Idaho as tater tots. He's the top; he's the Tower of Pizza and cellophane. Cannon bombadier and suede pants hottie and looks oddly good in funny outfits. Grease monkey and Mark Stewart. He's sensitive with an open heart; and at the same time is the guy you want to show up if you're in a bar fight. Who would suspect that someone who is so fond of mayhem and loud kabooms could be so gentle and sweet with me.
June 3, 2004
It is comforting to watch him weld things. He is good at it.