The poems herein were written live and anonymously by the man on this book’s cover. Each poem was crafted according to a specific request from its recipient; the poems were gifts to the friendly strangers who requested them.

One young lady requested a Seuss-style poem about the poet himself. This is what she got (see also p. 1):

Deep in the grickle grass someone is standing
Muses are launching and poems are landing
Twenty-six black and white keys clicky-clacking
No strangers in old Dupont Circle go lacking

Where do they come from, all these great idears?
Facial expressions suggest whirring gears
And then, in a flash, the man puts down his pen
Takes a picture, he smiles and is at it again!