I (a poem; something that resembles one; poetry is rather subjective, actually; kind of narcissistic of the poet to brand his or her own words as such, but I digress…)

What am I but a dot in the matrix A grain in the garden A salt speck in an endless ocean A pinhole upon night’s curtain (thanks Connery) A face in the crowd An ember to the fire A drop in the downpour A day in the life A vote in the congress A peanut […]