Write From What You Know Into What

I Read A Lot. I Liked A Tremendous Number Of Poets And Writers. The Person Whose Work I Liked The Most Was Joyce.

What We Owe Men Is Some Freedom From Their Part In A Murderous Game In Which They Kick Each Other To Death With One Foot, Bracing Themselves On Our Various Comfortable Places With The Other.

Old Age Is Not A Good Thing. It Can Be Really Hard, And Those Of Us Who Have It A Little Easier Should Keep In Mind That There Are Hundreds Of Thousands Of People Who Are Not As Well Off.

Sometimes You Find That What Is Most Personal Is Also What Connects You Most Strongly With Others.

Here I Am In The Garden Laughing An Old Woman With Heavy Breasts And A Nicely Mapped Face How Did This Happen Well That's Who I Wanted To Be At Last A Woman In The Old Style Sitting Stout Thighs Apart Under A Big Skirt Grandchild Sliding On Off My Lap A Pleasant Summer Perspiration That's My Old Man Across The Yard He's Talking To The Meter Reader He's Telling Him The World's Sad Story How Electricity Is Oil Or Uranium And So Forth I Tell My Grandson Run Over To Your Grandpa Ask Him To Sit Beside Me For A Minute I Am Suddenly Exhausted By My Desire To Kiss His Sweet Explaining Lips.