This post was written for a dear friend. Happy Birthday, Niles. You are the calm to my storm. The voice of reason to my insanity. The jitter to my bug. The Niles to my girly Frasier
Without further ado, I give you my ode to you.
There’s once was a guy from Macon
who like to shake his bacon
his hips, yours for the taking
While other men measure success by titles and cash
He dreams of making text dance over the crevices
of uncharted pages, imaginary characters alive in his mind
He longs to breathe life into figures he has never met.
to fire his own artistic semantic round.
to pen The Great American Novel,
with sophisticated soulful prose that linger
While other men play golf and women
He’s happier with his nose in a book
Getting lost in CS Lewis and Hemingway
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