Thread of Thought [Creative Non-Fiction]

Listen to the voice speaking solely, signaling itself as unique, de-encapsulating itself from the magma of interwoven thoughts. The only difference between the voice and the magma is this peculiar persistency, this wish for continuity. Not yet continuity. Just an inclination, a bias, as for dust tending to become lint—assemblages of matter, inconsistent and tiny, wanting to stick together if precariously. Listen to the voice and its pretense of lead-taking, its thirst for authority. Authorship as a claim to responsibility. Claim to personality. Right to vote, though no right of birth can be proved yet. No citizenship. Listen to the arrogance of the voice in spite of its chronic weakness—it will be erased, dissipated, if I simply turn the other way. Listen well because the voice is thin, because lint is volatile.

Poet for Hire [Guest Q&A]

I’ve been writing poetry since I was 17, and I grew up with typewriters; my father was a bit of a hoarder and he had about 12 of them all around the house. Even though I used typewriters for writing poems, it wasn’t until I met Robert that it ever occurred to me to take one into the street. Even after I met him and saw him doing it, at first I refused to believe that I was capable of writing spontaneously.