Long ago, I was told that
my poetry is like a wrestling match between my feelings and my language,
and that when I write something good, it is actually my feelings that have
won the match. I've figured out a way to express them despite the
limitations of the English language.
What you see here may
not be Walt Whitman, but it is the best that I can do. Countless
scraps of drivel, even for my standard, have been pruned for the sake of
showing the best face of my work. Hopefully, you'll enjoy some of
it. If not, then I hope that it at least doesn't give you nightmares
of my English teachers as clowns.
More to come...