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I’ve never really been comfortable with calling myself a poet.  A close friend once likened it to calling yourself beautiful or sexy, imagining the label to be more of a compliment -- something someone else would say about you rather than an actual profession.  Be that is it may, if by poet it is meant a lover of language, dialogue, arts and culture, then I embrace the title whole-heartedly.  Over the years, my passion for poetry has lead to an almost obsessive preoccupation with how society assigns meaning to words.  For example, popular terms like natural, organic and reality all seem to have evolved over time, becoming modifiers for a multitude of products, programs and conditions, that, in many cases, are not consistent with their intended meanings.
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