I was born in 1984 in Lake County, Indiana, where I currently live and practice law. My practice primary focuses on civil and appellate litigation, and I have argued numerous cases before Indiana and federal appellate courts. In addition to my legal career, I self-published a volume of poetry in 2013 titled The Spring’s Autumn.
Presented here are Trophy Wife and February Snowfall.
Galatea, not from stone
Are you carved, but silicone –
Breasts so firm and overgrown
Could have never been your own.
From atop your head unfold
Winding, lustrous locks of gold,
Bleached from hues as yet untold,
Sprayed and moussed and pressed and rolled.
Who gave you those sparkling eyes,
Azure like the cloudless skies?
Not your mother; her gift lies
Underneath a man-made guise.
Botox locks your visage tight
In a smile veneered with white;
Needle-fed, your lips invite,
Kissing air without respite.
How the world must think you fair,
Judging by your haughty air
And your empty smile and stare,
As though free of every care.
Does there lurk a human heart
In that man-made work of art,
Each piece purchased à la carte
And assembled part by part?
Tell me, why have you thus tried
So painstakingly to hide
The soul that cannot but reside
Underneath the false outside?
A bride, the virgin Earth
Dons her festive gown,
Unbroken sea of stainless white
With lacework traced in snow-lined boughs,
Veiled in opalescent fog,
Awaiting radiant Spring,
Ascending from the nether realms
To penetrate with warming beams
Her furrows long lain fallow,
And sire her daughters,
Numberless as the stars –
Delicate blooms of vivid hues,
Carpeting, painting April’s fields,
Sweetening its cool breezes.