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Should you be sufficiently adventurous as to purchase this volume of poetry, I thank you. I do not now nor ever have written poetry with the intent of publication, but only for my personal enjoyment, be it cathartic to cleanse tragedy of its bile or whimsical to celebrate a comic vein.Don Marquis, the poet whose wonderful creations, Archy the Cockroach and Mehitabel the Alley Cat, have given so much pleasure to so many people, wrote, "Publishing a volume of poetry is like dropping a rose petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo."He was right, of course, and still is right, at least when it comes to publishing a volume of poetry the traditional way, that being with the help of a literary agent, an editor, and a publishing company.However, with the invention of Ebooks and Print-on-Demand, all writers calling themselves poets can now inflict upon the public their work, be it good, grand, insufferably execrable, just plain bad, or (worst cut of all) indifferently mediocre.The poems you will find in this volume may be in all of those States of Siege, according to your taste and my talents. Written over several decades, and being now an old man, I have long since lost all objectivity about them.As for why I decided to publish what I never intended to publish: over many years, my friends urged me to do this rash deed and, to please them, as well as curiosity about how my work will be received by strangers (well, badly, or ignored), here it is, to use a fine old cliché, warts and all.