Born last century in a city hospital. I've been writing since grade school but got lost in the 60's, like Dorothy I fell to the Poppies; my detour off the yellow brick road lasted over three decades, just when I thought there was no hope--a miracle happened. When I sold my motorcycle for short money to feed my habit, I knew I was lost. Things got worse. It's in the book. Kicked heroin, cigarettes in that order, went from a bag-man to a happily married home owner, props to Spare Change News, and, while writing poetry decided to share a how-to book with directions back from hell. For counselors, shrinks, and especially for addicts.