Gerald Bosacker studied journalism, but found success as a graphic arts salesman and his career evolved through serendipity and wilful pandering to superiors, into a vice presidency of a gigantic international chemical company. This role was neither deserved nor properly appreciated. Early retirement, a naive victim of his failure to master corporate politics, provided ample opportunity for his first love of weaving words into meaningful poetry, and worldly tales with a realistic twist. Starting late, Bosacker fills the Internet with pro-bono words, and promoting his nine books, hoping for acclamation while he is still mortal, but contentedly leaving a literary legacy.

A formalist poet, my poetic efforts are most rejected by the non-rhyming literati, so I have far more rejection slips, than accolades or royalties. I guess I write, to please myself!