She'd Crack A Joke Sharp

Poems Come From Ordinary Experiences And Objects, I Think. Out Of Memory - A Dress I Lent My Daughter On Her Way Back To College; A Newspaper Photograph Of War; A Breast Self-exam; The Tooth Fairy; Calvinist Parents Who Beat Up Their Children; A Gesture Of Love; Seeing Oneself Naked Over Age 50 In A Set Of Bright Hotel Bathroom Mirrors.

A Family Is A Mystery.

Writing Or Making Anything-a Poem, A Bird Feeder, A Chocolate Cake-has Self-respect In It. You're Working. You're Trying. You're Not Lying Down On The Ground, Having Given Up.

My Poems - I Don't Even Like The Sound Of That, In A Way. Not That Anyone Else Wrote Them. But We Know That Only People Who Are Really Close To Us Care About Our Personal Experience.

When I Quit All These Things And Said I Didn't Have Any Time, I Meant I Didn't Have Any Time.