I Am A Driven Writer. I Feel

We're Herded Into Schools And Terrified Into Behaving. Taught How We're Supposed To Pretend To Be, Taught To Parrot All Kinds Of Nonsense At The Flick Of A Switch, Taught To Keep Our Heads Down And Our Elbows In And Shut Off Our Minds And Shut Off Our Sex. We Learn We Can't Even Piss When We Have To. That's How We Learn To Be Plastic And Dumb.

We Live In A Media Soup And Are Constantly Being Programmed Or Are Fighting That Programming. Thus Any Truthful Account Of A Life, Every Part Of A Life, Is About Society As Well As An Individual.

I Have No Connections Here; Only Gusty Collisions, Rootless Seedlings Forced Into Bloom, That Collapse. ... I Am The Visiting Poet: A Real Unicorn, A Wind-up Plush Dodo, A Wax Museum Of The Movement. People Want To Push The Buttons And See Me Glow.

We Admire Predators - Panthers, Lions, Tigers, Even Wolves. Maybe To Be Naturally Thoughtful And Hesitant To Use Violence Is To Be Somehow Second Rate. To Be In The Middle Of The Social Food Chain. Especially If You're A Man. This Society Thinks Real Men Are Violent.

Your Anger Was A Climate I Inhabited Like A Desert In A Dry Frigid Weather Of High Thin Air And Ivory Sun, Sand Dunes The Wind Lifted Into Stinging Clouds That Blinded And Choked Me Where The Only Ice Was In The Blood.