He’s like the bird in a cage in a pit in a tunnel, and he sings just to celebrate air.Something . . .Everything . . .Nothing . . .What do you write when you are learning to be a poet? What do you not write? Is there a breath of air taken that doesn’t contain a poem buried within it?lord this is earth I am alone too far from water-blue we look from where you gaze on us . . .A Poetry Archive visits Frank Prem’s early days as a poet. Volume 1 is the first of two collections written between 1998 - 2003, and reveals the emergence of a distinctive poetic voice.shall I write for you dear reader the way a fish might do in swirls and circles through the water . . .Wild Arancini Press is delighted to bring you this wonderful journal of a poet’s beginnings.