The Gate Mystique is about a tea stall without a name. It is about Buddhist monks in Cambodia and Little Johnny Green. It's about a Mission to Mars and a room full of cosmic dust. It is about Monsanto and Fritolays and bugs going to war. It's about what is and what perhaps should not be. If you are insulted by any of my poems, please accept my apologies. My intention is not to offend, but to open a crack in the wall.