Poems Give You The Lives Of Others

There Is No Technique, There Is Just The Way To Do It. Now, Are We Going To Measure Or Are We Going To Cook?

When I Was Twelve, I Started Reading Eudora Welty, Thomas Wolfe, Flannery O'connor, James Agee, And - Do We Dare Breathe The Name - William Faulkner.

Anytime The Perfume Of Orange And Lemon Groves Wafts In The Window; The Human Body Has To Feel Suffused With A Languorous Well-being.

I Had The Urge To Examine My Life In Another Culture And Move Beyond What I Knew.

Like Fanning Through A Deck Of Cards, My Mind Flashes On The Thousand Chances, Trivial To Profound, That Converged To Re-create This Place. Any Arbitrary Turning Along The Way And I Would Be Elsewhere; I Would Be Different. Where Did The Expression "a Place In The Sun" First Come From? My Rational Thought Process Cling Always To The Idea Of Free Will, Random Event; My Blood, However, Streams Easily Along A Current Of Fate.