from Brendan

29 and shoreworn. Male as the day I was born. I crunch brainstorming like numbers - new math for the cerebrals seeking inner pearls. My hands make intangible things. Like poems and stories and digital light-cap-tur-ing. Also food. And music. And offices make me acute sick. I stick to the few tricks I’s got stacked like bricks, and make it sick like the prophet Khalil - Gibran said, that “The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea; And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes. But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure; And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.”