Radomir

It was 2005. I was living in the New York City area. My marriage was crumbling. I was seeing a psychiatrist, therapist and marriage counselor, and gotten off my bipolar medication for far too long. The city felt more and more like a goldfish bowl. I was losing my mind. Before long I would leave my wife and travel to Los Angeles where I would end-up homeless, sleeping in shelters, committed ot a mental hospital, and have heroine dealers try to sell the drug to me on the street. These poems, then, are a reflection of that moment, often pitch black, other times radiant and true, but always honest and genuine. They attempt to express what I was feeling during a time I almost did not survive, and sometimes wished I would not have. This collection, then was written in ten days in the Journal Square section of Jersey City, NJ. It was recently found almost ten years later under a pile of newspapers after it had been long forgotten.