GenuineFake
I am: / / A blundering fool on a mission; but nobody has told me what it is yet. / / A fervent supporter of the pointless and the fractious; but fervour scares me shitless. / / Not the diplomat I once was; but probably still a bit too soft and smooth. / / My poetry happens in fits and starts - mostly when I'm in or perilously close to the deepest of deep shit. But depth is a relative measure and I have waders for the usual stuff and sadly I'm evolving flippers and a dorsal fin for when it gets really bad. By this latter means my days as a poet are clearly numbered, and my days themselves merely numbed. / / There is nothing especially enigmatic about me but, I guess like you, my confusion and persistent bewilderment occasionally do a reasonable impression of intrigue and mystery. / / Anyway, what boggle-brained lunacy is it that persuades us that wrapping our thoughts in poem-form could possibly help in their transmission? / / A good lunacy.
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