Poetry At Its Best Is The Language

The Days Are Stacked Against What We Think We Are.

I've Never Felt Influenced By Ernest Hemingway Though I Suppose There Is Something Inevitable There.

In A Life Properly Lived, You're A River.

I Did Not Want To Live Out My Life In The Strenuous Effort To Hold A Ghost World Together. It Was Plain As The Stars That Time Herself Moved In Grand Tidal Sweeps Rather Than The Tick-tocks We Suffocate Within, And That I Must Reshape Myself To Fully Inhabit The Earth Rather Than Dawdle In The Sump Of My Foibles.

Life Is An Honor, Albeit Anonymously Delivered.