"Born in a cellar ... and living in a garret" - Samuel Foote

i am the mad poet. born in the cellar that is suburbia and middle-class perpetual motion, i have come to live in the garret that is my thoughts and dreams, my despair and my joy. i make no excuses for any misuse of syntax or punctuation, any perceived lack of merit or propriety that may be found here. all things are in the eye of the beholder, and convention simply indicates the dominant prejudices of any given time. after putting aside such obstacles, all that remains is this: i am the mad poet, and this is my garret. wander through it as you will. all i ask is for what is mine to remain mine, and be used only with acknowledgement.

the garret is still under major construction. this is just the story so far.

	read the writing is on the wall, here for all to see. poems and other writings from the desk / floor / bed / ceiling of the mad poet		look assorted scribbles and doodles, ideas encapsulated in line. the true product of all those hours spent appearing to listen and take notes.
	listen listen intro		test test intro
	discover discover intro		contact contact intro

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