In today’s post–post–modernist world, I suppose only a fool would choose to portray himself as a warrior – poet whose brain is stuffed to the rafters with yesterworld chivalrous notions. it would be a hilariously quaint and disturbingly out of step mindset to commit oneself to – yes, I know – but true love pulled me in a direction and gave me a purpose and i cannot and will not turn away from it. think what you will, say what you will – I don’t give a flying fig – I was born to be her undaunted champion, her stalwart pillar of strength, her bridge over troubled waters; and unless and until she tells me not to be,
That is exactly what i will remain.