THE VOICE OF SMALL PRESS POETRY
I am baby-faced – I am baby-boned – I am the miracle of every death around me. I do not feel that the deaths of family members, a few familiar co-workers, and an acquaintance or two, truly bring to life the concept of losing someone whom you meet, and then becomes a part of you….
I’ve seen Robert Duncan Gray in his underwear, screaming poetry from the top of his lungs, and then staring down the crowd like a mic drop. It was brilliant. His stage presence is powerful because he is – obviously – very comfortable with who he is, and more importantly, makes no apologies for it….