David Rossiter lives in London. He is both a car salesman and a Humanist - but with a profound suspicion of human ego.He prefers fact over faith which, being unsubstantiated, is often perpetuated by dogma and ritual.His poetry, whilst being easy to read is also direct, funny and sometimes macabre. Outwardly, like an onion, it may appear simplistic but has the ability to make your eyes water if you strip away the layers.This is not pompous stuff, it can be read anywhere - especially in the bathroom, from the hidden depths of which, a casual passer-by may hear the reader quietly snigger.
David Rossiter lives in London. He is both a car salesman and a Humanist - but with a profound suspicion of human ego.He prefers fact over faith which, being unsubstantiated, is often perpetuated by dogma and ritual.His poetry, whilst being easy to read is also direct, funny and sometimes macabre. Outwardly, like an onion, it may appear simplistic but has the ability to make your eyes water if you strip away the layers.This is not pompous stuff, it can be read anywhere - especially in the bathroom, from the hidden depths of which, a casual passer-by may hear the reader quietly snigger.