Still writing, just not posting so much here because I'm attempting to polish up some pieces and get them published.  As Paul Varjak said of his work to Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's, "Mainly they're angry, sensitive, intensely felt, and that dirtiest of all dirty words - promising."  Promising.  It's nearly a death knell in the writing world.  Completely and totally dangled to offer a little hope while reminding you don't have quite what it takes to make that leap into being published full-time.  Anyway, I'm going to take my "promising" self and work harder on my haiku.

It's funny, honestly.  A friend recently asked me if poetry even matters anymore in this world.  I was startled, but I believe firmly it does matter.  Poetry, like all art forms, matters a great deal to the human experience.  Now and then we are capable of capturing, even if it's only a brief line, a little bit of truth we could all use.