Writers Block

The awful virus of it; the expectations of genius Arising out of nothing     mere attention to the banal I’ve gotten old enough to just watch and wait. Here’s a old haiku just for writers block: Disobedient poems! They never come When you call.  Heel, u sombitch. Heel. But even if I sat in the grass …

Strangers

The day of this interview, I took lunch and sat in the café downstairs from work. The café is awful; the items pretty and sweet and pointless. It rained noisily. I sat facing a boiling puddle and listened as close I could to the reporter on the phone. His voice warm and friendly, his questions …

Poem Up At State Lines

David Roderick and the good folks at SF Chronicle very nicely published a poem from my new book. Bakersfield, was my first attempt at paying tribute to the family road trips we used to take every summer in the late 70's, early 80's. Those memories, what's left of them, are of a pre-strip-malled, pre-Star*ucked America. …