A, sgraffitist and challenger of the mountain deities, I have been known to down a Wild T’ or so and pontificate: writing a poem is like launching an origami swan out into the plaited turbulence of a stream. The “poet” of that fragile sculpture has only the vaguest idea of its eventual destination and little or no control over its course.

And if not quelled, I would continue: simply having learned the proficiencies to fold, plane over plane crease against crease, that swan is a major accomplishment in itself. Tho well designed and precise its construction, there indeed, seems to be no guarantee of its path to adventure—or if the journey will even be completed.

Why, then, would a writer not want to establish a finely defined, well researched skill-set before beginning their project. Perhaps, with a more solid foundation, that graceful rover, will, reach the sea.

Keeping all the edges tucked in,

Max tdc