Sometimes when I read the poems I place here, I think: Man, this is the most amazing-yet-undiscovered talent!

She’s just sitting here, obscurely shining like one of those Rocks that actually end up being Emeralds on Antiques Roadshow.

If she doesn’t get recognition on This Side of Life, she’ll certainly get it posthumously. Word of Her Work will catch flame to the extent it becomes MANDATORY reading for 10th graders everywhere (including Mars) by 2062.

They’ll be so progressive by then, they won’t even edit the spicy ones out.

Other times, I just want to puke.

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