Dedicated to Justin Groft's Poetry

How inspirational:

To inhale the words of a stranger.

Gratuitous hands toasting the art of his mind...

Admiration [no, not enough]
Oridinary titles falter beneath his lines.

Every word consumed,

leaving no ink spill'd from his pen;

Late night scribbles pray for an inkling of comparison.

I think for once,

I'll tip my hat,

And I'll reclaim my airborne nose;

I think for once,

I'll choose the water,

And for him, I'll leave the wine.