Well, Here It Is. Enjoy!
When I set out for Mexico seeking the worm of truth, you sped ahead to Cancun, carved melons for drinks until your wrist ached, and you swore you'd worked hard enough. I didn't go to the beach, though. Found a tiny village instead: its water flavored with piss; children's shoes, calluses; Death at the table in every casa. You caught up to me, somehow, screwed in those martyr-eyes you must keep in a jar or a purse, and solicited a rhyme from me then, claiming people could relate to all you'd been through when you nearly fell from stepping over some legless beggar boy. |
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Dave DeGolyer has had a variety of jobs, from banking to selling ladies shoes to working in the jewelry business to teaching high school, but it wasn't until recently that he decided to finally to pursue his passion of writing. After living in L.A. for a year, writing a handful of screenplays, Dave enrolled in the MFA in Writing program at Spalding University where his focus is Writing for Children and Poetry. He has found the program to be everything he expected and more. |