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The poet writes from heart not head, and from his nib poised words are bled upon spun papyrus. Drawn deep from inkwells in his soul, both veracity and chimera flow into word wonderment. From poet’s veins there flows a stream, vernacular eddies, profound, extreme, give way to eloquence. On hardened pulp, at his bequest, wounds once found beneath his flesh have now been given voice.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

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