In Which Death Visits Me Whilst I Breakfast

I was sitting in my usual booth at the GHOP (Gentleman’s House of Pancakes). On the table before me was a plate full of untouched ones (pancakes). I was pushing them around with a fork. To the best of my knowledge, Dick Hercules was not around. “May I join you?” I looked up. It was not Mr.Hercules.…

A poem about Coffee by Dick Hercules

A terrible commotion had erupted in the common room of the GHOP (Gentlemen’s House of Pancakes). The common room, of course, is the one where the riff-raff sit. The ones who eat their pancakes by hand and sip their coffee from the spigot. And never smoke a pipe. I looked up and who did I…

A poem about Pancakes by Dick Hercules

Dear Readers, Some of you may know that on occasion I do function as agent for other (ahem)…writers. At the behest of my client, Diklitous Phantasos Hercules, I somewhat reluctantly post the following. I wish it be known that it is not my choice to do so. Please do not hesitate to contact me with…