Author: J. Wolfe


I always had that problem of looking out the window. I was kicked out of Algebra II in the 10th grade for it. A few decades later, my cube has a view of a pine that gets irritated at the lightest of breezes. There are passionate sunsets in the winter. And a constant flux of cars overtop of 90% of the asphalt in the valley. They pay me to look out this window now. Never underestimate how far your weaknesses will take you. Sometimes I look out other windows. I call that poetry.