John Grey poems

Self Non-Explanatory When anyone asks me,I invoke the great-great-unclewith the walrus moustachewho was lost among the wilds of New Guinea,believed eaten by cannibals.Sometimes I even recall a movie I once saw,retelling it so dramatically,hands waving, voice loud,I’m all the characters at once.If people wish to know who I am,I divert them with fading photographs in albums,books…