Poems Give You The Lives

It's Kind Of Amazing That People Will Travel Because Of A Book. I Admire That.

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.

Living In A Small Italian Hilltown, And Having Lived In A Small Town In South Georgia, I Understand That You Can Recognize A Family Gene Pool By The Lift Of An Eyebrow, Or The Length Of A Neck, Or A Way Of Walking.

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

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.