come, come.
soft! sit.
and ponder if you will, of all the world.
the seas, the skies
the land, the lives
the ladies, the guys
the souls, the eyes.
what do they see?
how might they feel?
or
what can you show them?
how can you make them feel?
these were the questions Homer asked himself.
centuries later, Shakespeare repeated.
Poe, Hughes, Morrison and Lee.
and now, enter, me.
I have copied no answers, though my eyes have wandered.
curiosity, in fact, has fed my cat.
long have i wondered what other eyes see
and my pen whispers their lives into my ear
lives of sorrow, pain, indifference and fear.
hear ye and take heed
these stories have nothing to do with me
and have not been told to me
but
does that make them fictional?
...
fix your description of me
until you know the story of the one doing the story-telling.
