Everybody who knows me says that I am a hideously talented artist.  That's actually exactly the way my art teacher said it.

BROOKE MARKS THE HORSE

Believe it or not, what you see above is actually an illustration from one of the poems I've written for Brooke Marks.  Please enjoy this excerpt:

CHASING THE WIND

I dreamt you were a fast white horse

And I was your bareback rider

Sensitive like an Indian

And strong as a man.

Your curly mane tickles the tip

of my nose.

Your horse muscles surge

under my hairless thighs.

I slow your gallop to a trot

As we near a silver stream.

You lay down as gracefully

as a teenage girl.

And I sleep against your snowy down

Forever.