I sometimes feel that what I'm doing here is building a fortress out of words. Gates of metaphor and battlements of simile. Spiraling towers of chained letters. All are welcome to come, the gates are always open, but I lie immobile in the center of the main hall, my extremities strung to the floor with consonants and vowels. All I can do is smile, and spew words, build new towers, new wings, new rooms. Tags, posts, pages, tools, they grow up around me in this my home. The fortress alive, like...
