Call me Officer Phil.

In truth I hold no office beyond that of guardian of my thoughts and occasionally chief cook and bottle washer.

When my soul’s resilience is sorely tested, I turn to these pages to exorcise demons, setting down thoughts I might otherwise shout inappropriately at strange times or suffer ceaselessly ricocheting through the interior of my cranium. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Also going fishing.

P.S. I only wrote that poem to test my printer

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