Writers can write outside their ethnicity or sex depending how open and vulnerable they wish to be.

A poet must discover that it’s his own story that is true, even if the truth is small indeed.

No one else can hold your hand or take this voyage of the soul for you.

The wife picked out ceramic tile for floor covering, not realizing that cost was determined by square foot, not square yard like carpet. Thinking the price was plenty reasonable, she had an extra room of tile ordered for installation. When the bill arrived, it was staggering. She and her husband began a fight that continued all through the construction job. They ended up divorced, but not until she had broken every window.

What cannot be said, will get wept.

Wherever we go we do harm, forgiving ourselves as wheels do cement for wearing each other out. We set this house on fire, forgetting that we live within. (from "To a Meadowlark," for M.L. Smoker)

Yeah, but now suddenly - you know, universities are notoriously market oriented, too.