You may have heard this before. When i say heard I mean read,  probably. The person who is at the centre of this shall remain nameless and that’s what his name rhymes with (and that in itself is mere coincidence).
This is nothing more than an elaborate attempt to disassociate myself from an idea hogged by a certain poet. The hogging had prevented me from feeling comfortable about writing on this paticular subject which will,  for the moment, remain unsaid until such a time feels appropriate. It has taken me so long to come to this point that I’m not even sure of its validity. Writing about it now feels somewhat pointless and,  if nothing else,  may act as a sedative to my burgeoning ego.
It all started a long time ago back in the 80s when i would never have foreseen the situation i now find myself torturously exposed to.
The subject matter, perhaps merely a painful digression from the truth of the situation which, when revealed may be so shocking that one might find oneself having to sit down for a moment and/or stare at a blank piece of wall for several moments and that is why i am currently at a crossroads in revealing the source of my confused passion.
The poet in question is now dead,  however and this makes me feel that time is certainly passing,  although not quickly enough for further discussion of the subject at this moment