A close friend of mine was enthusiastic about his upcoming botany project;
he wanted to show me what he had learned so far;

the anatomy of a flower, a rose, a tulip, a daisy
a lily, a Poinsettia...

As he was talking I couldn't help but
interrupt his silly game of catch
with a hearty laugh

I said people don't want to hear about the inside
of something so beautiful, so perfect, so clean

They want the illusion, the absolute, the ideal!

After a couple of hours
of hand motions, direct eye contact
and awkward body language
I finally managed convinced the man to quit school,
and take up poetry.

That was 2 years ago from today.

Last I heard of him,

He was roaming around
some small city in France,
managed to use what little money
he had to phone me
and tell me poetry was the best thing
since American sliced bread.

He is now a starving artist
that goes by the name of

Hawthorne l'bouffon.

Keep a lookout on his collection of poems

entitled: A Life Worth Leafing.