I am from a century of capital Flowers; there I was a swelter in the Ashes with a nose of loam and a Daisy-oriented orgy of Midges.  I came to be in these exotic Forests through the ferry's ballast I floated in for years.  A player and a sailor scooped my Egg-Seed from the rusty crud.  He grasped my Germ and crushed my liquor out; it dripped down the gravel.  I grew in the deep sandstone aquifer, then shattered by a boring shaft I was drunk, expelled, and flown around the world on Stormclouds to this new Forest of Ashes.  Here I rained into the upturned eyes of Toads and Fawns and men.  The rest is written in the paths of Hare-bent Grasses, the Woodpecker hunting trails of holes, and the wake of spaded Leaves in ponds. 

But not really.  I'm actually from Chicago.  And I am not Puck, but it was fun to pretend, right?  You can still call me Puck if you want to, but my name is John. 

I like making stuff up.  I also like math and food. 

Thanks for reading!