You Happened To Me. You

Did You Love Well What Very Soon You Left? Come Home And Take Me In Your Arms And Take Away This Stomach Ache, Headache, Heartache. Never So Full, I Never Was Bereft So Utterly. The Winter Evenings Drift Dark To The Window. Not One Work Will Make You, Where You Are, Turn In Your Day, Or Wake From Your Night Toward Me. The Only Gift I Got To Keep Or Give Is What I've Cried, Floodgates Let Down To Mourning For The Dead Chances, For The End Of Being Young, For Everyone I Loved Who Really Died. I Drank Our One Year Out In Brine Instead Of Honey From The Seasons Of Your Tongue.

I Try To Write Everyday. I Do That Much Better Over Here Than When I'm Teaching. I Always Rewrite, Usually Fairly Close-on Which Is To Say First Draft, Then Put It Aside For 24 Hours Then More Drafts.

I'm Addicted To Email, But Other Than That, There Are Practical Things - Being Able To Buy A Book On The Internet That You Can't Find In Your Local Bookshop. This Could Be A Lifeline If You Live Further From The Sources.

Given The Devaluation Of Literature And Of The Study Of Foreign Languages Per Se In The United States, As Well As The Preponderance Of Theory Over Text In Graduate Literature Studies, Creative Writing Programs Keep Literature Courses Populated.

Community Means People Spending Time Together Here, And I Don't Think There's Really That.