I Died In My Boots Like A

Even In Hell, If A Man Was A Man, You'd Know It.

Sometimes A Sign Or A Quote Is Simply Interesting By Itself And Does Not Require Anything Beyond Being Framed On A Page.

I Don't Think I Have Ever Really Gotten Leopold Bloom's Interior Ramblings Out Of My Head! I Am Sure That Voice Continues To Inspire The Walking Consciousness In My Work - That Is, The Way I Carry On An Interior Monologue As I Walk Through This City.

Money Is Sullen And Wisdom Is Sly, But Youth Is The Pollen That Blows Through The Sky And Does Not Ask Why.

A Phrase May Come To Me As I Am Walking, And, Once I Write It Down In My Journal, The Rest Of The Poem Will Unravel From That Catalyst.