fragments
 
Off the Coffee Table
Resumes are bloated and blogs are for the masses. But different from all other things, I've often thought of my poetry as the purest representation of my thoughts and feelings at the time they were composed. The way I've assigned meaning to things will probably be cryptic to most of you, but I believe that concealed within is a soft underbelly, a window of sorts to a side of me I don't normally reveal.

Last Three Chapters Bitter Traces You Can't Smoke a Cigarette Twice
Foot of the Chain Betrayal Tear A Tear
How Things Change Circus of Dreams The Rubber Chicken
Beyond The Ledge Howard Discovering My Universe
5 Broken Strings If I could... Tabula Rasa
Two Forks and a Spoon No More Viagra For My Pets So he soared on broken wings
A Pea In A Pod