Michael Bennett
Writer
I find myself in no uncertain terms, to be a lover of great acumen, yet held inside mine own mind by the actions of adolescents. My love of touch, the closeness, the care, the feeling of being together is longed for. Gregarious. Of course all is subject to change and become more clear when the drink is introduced.
Joker, Jester, Prince and Pauper, all in line, standing at the bar. All w/in one, all competing for time, for access to the mouth. But just below the surface and worked up affectations, lies the heart of the warrior poet.
In this horrid veneer, spackle of the soul, hides the woodland child of an urban nature. Let me tell you all who I am not. Let me call to you in fascination from the mouth of man-child, allegro. Let me light divine upon yr soul. Let lips divine treasure. Let eyes define boundaries.
Define yourself in bitter and un-cogent ways.
From the author
