"Ritualize"—it’s what I seem to dowhen the prosaic day is through,as I embrace the quiet night,preparing once more for the write. With pen, with paper, blackest ink,I set out once more toward the brink—to the margins where I hide,where truth...

I can feel it deepest in the nightevery single time I dare to writespill my purest ink upon the pagerecite my lines on this empty stageFor this is truly the realest methis invisible poet that you seethe one who...