My remarkable little brother, I call him Pickle,
set out today on a long-mulled-over whim,
to cast himself upon the choppy waters of New York City.
(New York City, imagine that?)
He goes up there, like many a playwright/thespian/poet/Kenyon graduate
before him, to make his way in a city glutted with
talent, slim-prospects and really expensive cocktails,
with no idea what he'll do with himself, except start looking.
I have complete faith that something astounding will come of it,
but if any of you in NYC need, or know of someone who needs,
an incredibly capable fellow to do something
from the menial to the impossible, he's your man.
Seriously, let me know. You shan't be disappointed.
