Grippo King, philosopher, and artist.
Downright to the marrow, he’
s the arrow through the heartless.
Sunlight in the afternoon, his
shadow travels furthest.
Woven through the
heart of doom, he’
s bursting through the surface.
Hardly nervous, suffice to say, he understands his purpose: Threshold King of everything, a comical absurdist.
Sometimes when he talks he sings, yet keeps his high notes wordless.