My Purpose emerges from the blank page,
from the collective emotion

My Privilege hollers from my mother’s womb and my father’s butterflies

My Prevail came from Arctic circle solitude,
Public school bull,







Stage Presence,



Music pumped loud

My Perchance is love.











-Lucky, huh?

My Persona echoes Lauren Bacall’s voice,
Reaches towards Eve’s tree,


Drives past old haunts,


Resonates water ripples




My Possibilities are like anyone else’s,





What I make of them

My Poetry is the same poem reincarnated over and over again

to a different time and place

My Pencil leads my purpose




To write
To slam
To oh yeah





To collage






To doodle irreverently in the margins
To fix it last minute




TO CREATE





To capture a moment




To resuscitate something beautiful










To find Purpose