--i came to poetry much like thoreau came to walden, to learn how to live 

--i have my doubts about my own art

--i do not doubt poetry, or my life in poetry 

--i am currently caught in a struggle of my own design regarding the arc, scope and vision of my own writing 

--i am trying my level best to lose my ego

--i am doing what i can to live in the world as a good citizen 

--i think upon the size of the universe and my own personal sized micro-speck in it and i am awed 

--i am awed at my own insignificance

--i am astonished that i was given this opportunity to be alive at this time 

--a time when we have the technology and the brain wattage to look up into the sky and see both the future and the ancient past

--a time when technology is becoming something out of a sci-fi movie 

--a time when i can use my own limitations beyond the scope of simple words 

--i came to poetry to learn how to live

--and learn how to be a good man, husband, father, citizen 

--i say fuck the ego

--success is an illusion 

--what is real is you, me, us

--poetry belongs to everyone