Every time we hit an air pocket and the plane dropped about five hundred feet (leaving my stomach in my mouth) I vowed to give up sex, bacon, and air travel if I ever made it back to terra firma in one piece.

I write lustily and humorously. It isn't calculated; it's the way I think. I've invented a writing style that expresses who I am.

Creativity demands nothing less than all you have. Talent alone is never enough.

We are so scared of being judged that we look for every excuse to procrastinate.

language can't be appropriated by one person, one poet. The words belong to all of us.

I think I've become more cynical about sex. Meaning, I don't think sex in and of itself leads to an epiphany.

All my forebears worked for a living. My grandfather painted portraits. My mother too. My aunt painted seascapes.