Dan's Bait & Tackle

Half the time I make Walt Whitman sound
modest. That’s no mean feat, but
it’s easily accomplished when you’re the
crowning glory of existence: the
capstone of the universe.

Then, something happens.
Or, nothing happens.

True genius– barely
constrained on vinyl,
released by a diamond
stylus– cannot
be denied.

I’m never been to
William Duffy’s farm,
and I’m not one for hammocks.
But the conclusion is the same.