A Poem (untitled)

Being as I am at loose ends on my 66th birthday I got the notion to publish something I’d written a very, very, very long time ago. It is untitled:


Who can question the GENIUS


The mosquito,

The flea;

The biting fly;

The narcissistic gnat

Who seeks his image

In the mirror of your eye?

                                                                                                                              W. Reske

About The Twentieth Man

Age 69
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