A Poet's First Glass

I'm not the poetic person who can sit in a coffee house corner and leave creativity to caffeine. Instead, I open up to opportunity and observe. I lend my language to the alliteration laureate that sits somewhere on the lookout for lost souls. Countless times, Trial and I have met with her and moseyed through the meadow of meaningless measurability. Who am I? Are these my dreams in the dregs of my drink? Sip from the flask of French Vanilla fortune, for it is entangled in answers.