Must I find fine words to be of value on this earth? Must I be of light-foot and nimble fingers for you to know my worth? Is there no...

If I had wings of a dove, I would fly away surrender this lackluster existence where talent flees me unused unwanted undisciplined in a...

It’s a world: a whole wide one. Yet we pitch our place in pale imitations of life— in so many (i’m)material fabrications of who knows who...