Burrow

Twenty-six poems ranging from optimism to a less-than-optimistic perspective. Many of them focus on the hypocrisies of others, or, alternatively, on the author's own struggles of trying not to be hypocritical, which, of course, is always a huge challenge. Being judgmental is easy; being hypocritical is easy; the hard part is being neither, which is maybe the ultimate goal of life.

Growth comes from piles of manure, and in America there's a lot of it. Is growth good, or is growth a cancer? Is manure (a.k.a. shit, B.S.) good, or not? Since it's hard to argue that freedom is bad, yet if William F. Buckley, Jr. is correct when he says that "freedom breeds inequality," (the Matthew effect in sociology) can freedom be sustainable or civil? Or are civilization and freedom necessary antipodes such that the only sustainable cure is manure?

These are some of the questions addressed in these lines of poetry.