My name is Caius Valerius Catullus. I was born in Verona, to a decent family that thought they were a good family. When I was fairly young I came to Rome, and here I have stayed, except when it makes me sick.

I am proud to state that I am the best poet in Rome. No point in false modesty. All those other scribblers of doggerel and spewers of love-sick or sea-sick iambic lines know it, too. I am the uncontested cream of the crop.

I have madly adored Clodia Pulcher for the better part of my life. I swear, that girl and her succession of lovers were almost the death of me. About ten years ago, I went through a particularly bad spell which was nearly fatal-- bouts of fever, listlessness, drunkeness (you may refer to poem seventy six). When I recovered from it, I finally ceased communication with her, and have spoken to her only through poetry for ten years.

I am forty, now-- not past my prime, note, certainly not poetically! I am still more or less fit (I swear! It's solid muscle! Really, it is! Mostly!) and possess a full head of red hair. I am soon to bring out another book. My recent poems have mostly been barbs shot against Caesar and his gang of bandits. There are some amusing pieces about Cleopatra, too. If you would care to read, buy your own damn copy!

OOC: I may be reached at no_coward_soul_am_i@yahoo.com