Dear Randal Hooke,

Hey everyone, let me excuse myself for my long absence. I have been on a journey which has taken me through the Valley of Demons and the Place where everyone wants to be. My writing projects are moving on into screenplays which will be submitted through the proper channels and be put into production in who knows what amount of time? Soon, or almost there, or something like that. In the mean time, I will be posting my poetry as my essays stand by for some intense editing with more content. Where have I been? In the Garden of Eden.

Who Am I?

I am a Gypsy, a waif with an L
Moses and Jesus were the same dude,
and Eve and Andrew Jackson have more in common than you’d think.
Ponce found the Fountain, but it wasn’t in a place
and Sophocles went on to write Comedy.
Bonni is my daughter, and Harvey is my son.
My love exists in the deep Valley of the Desert
A man who has always been on my mind.

Codee was a dear friend of mine, and so is his best fRiend.
White is the snow which Shawn skated down.
Shawn, Shain?
Shain, the Crass of my heart, a lover of Red Baron,
a knotty lucky Charm of mine.

The Red Ranger taught me martial arts, my first crush,
He met The Dude in Kuwait, and took some pictures.
Knoxville is the punk rock King, but you already knew that, Baby Doll.
Maybe Rollins and O’Shea will go there
and mix some tapes with Bay Green.

Green is the color of the grass which love grows.
Shawn was the Teach, gave me some relief
He and Alvie ran that joint up the to the Chandelier
with Mama Bear, my first Sergeant, and the Evil Gnome by their side
But the Evil Gnome was not evil, we just could not be contained.
We was punx rawk.

I saved my Koala bear from the red and black snake
Wrote him some letters in recovery; we’re “old souls,”
Specs of dust, so to speak.
I jumped with my Best Friend down the cliff,
but before we hit the bottom, I clung onto he and the Banyan Tree
He was the Man with Soot on his Face
From a life we built together, and continue to build today.

We’re about Freedom, always have been,
Always will be.
Freedom from demons, or trolls, or what-have-you
Freedom from the Greedhead which binds us to his $
Freedom from Satan, a female uglay as a Troll.
Freedom to love the elves, dwarves, and gnomes:
All of the lovely little creatures which fill this Earth with Joy

Not all creatures are the same, some are young and dumb
But owls are old and Wise.
I saw the Leprechaun,
I know the rainforests
I know the Toadl
I’m the muthaphukkin Gnome, bitch.
And all the Trolls can go back under the bridge where they belong.

gypsymuthafuckayayleaves

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