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September 27






I turn and spin; the world flashes as I go.  I am erect, proud of my self-possession.  I can stand the forces of vector rotation, public opinion and gravity.  Sobriety has made a dancer out of me.  I sprint the stage and take my place.  I know the moves and trust, as best I can, the choreographer and the choreography.  I feel the wind move on my body as I revolve, the blur of existence spreads out before me.  I can let it all pass.  To spot myself and keep my upright posture, the only place that requires my clear and unobstructed view is the line of sight from my sponsor’s eyes to mine.



Let your work speak.





A Verse to the Wise


Encoding truth into poetry

makes reality survivable by giving readers

the opportunity to dig truth up like diamonds.


Throwing certainty in people’s faces like cold water

gives them a wakeup call but nothing to embrace.

The beauty of semaphore is the dance

that need not be understood by everyone who sees it.


Communication through device

leaves headroom and breathing space

while acceptance might be reached.


The current of a conversation

often leads me to face the facts,

but a tsunami of candor could drown me.