“Like so many of this nation’s writers of poetry,” Philip Brooks says, “he can lately be found drinking coffee and eating a baked good in Brooklyn, New York. You can spot him. He’s the guy scribbling in a notebook rather than typing on a laptop. His poems have appeared previously in Mudlark, as well as in the Beloit Poetry Journal, The Kenyon Review, Willow Springs, The Quarterly, and various internet spots.”