I Find It Easy To Admire In

We May Be Losing The Ability To Understand Animals Who Are Not Pets Or Horses. We Have Less Contact With Them. We Don't (most Of Us) Tend To Know Even Cows And Pigs, Let Alone Bears Or Wolverines Or Red Tailed Hawks.

There Is No Justice We Don't Make Daily Like Bread And Love.

The Mind Wraps Itself Around A Poem. It Is Almost Sensual, Particularly If You Work On A Computer. You Can Turn The Poem Round And About And Upside Down, Dancing With It A Kind Of Bolero Of Two Snakes Twisting And Coiling, Until The Poem Has Found Its Right And Proper Shape.

Suppose That A Person Writes What She Must. That Is Only The First Step Of Becoming A Writer. The Work Must Survive The Moment Of Creation. It Must Get Out To An Audience. She Or He Must Dare To Show The Work. She Must Risk Ridicule, Misunderstanding, Scandal, Condemnation, & What's Often Worse, None Of The Above: Silence. No Attention At All.

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.