Richard is a poet's soul born into a bikers body. This dichotomy has resulted in a constant internal dialog, some of which escapes onto paper to quietly be by itself. Others have escaped into the Googleverse...
Reeechard originated deep in the Sequoia Forest and has existed for the past forty-odd years in exotic locations like the shrub-steppe deserts of Eastern Washington, the igneous slopes of Haleakala on Maui [where he narrowly escaped contracting the dreaded pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis by exhaling exclusively], and the smog-laden sloughs of Los Angeles. Reeechard has discovered that he enjoys practicing sanity. He hopes that his Starbucks managing daughter agrees. In between late-night electronic diatribes on the benefits of peace, the evils of fluoride, the self destructive tendencies of bi-pedal endothermic organisms as evidenced by their disconnect from nature, and responsible consumerism, Reeechard finds time to enjoy the liquid sunshine of Olympia Washington. He is currently assembling a collection of poems, essays, and various errata interesting only to himself that may possibly be titled "Idioms, Idiots, and Ideas that Made History" He can most often be found close to slow-moving bodies of water, thinking about time and space while not really experiencing either, plucking nylon in harmonious frequencies, or drinking beer with friends and strangers.
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