I have fallen in love with American names, the sharp, gaunt names that never get fat.

Truth is a hard deer to hunt. If you eat too much truth at once, you might die of the truth.

Ironically the blog has re-opened the essay as a good form for me. I like to look and make commentary! If I sense my essays are good, I try to resubmit to another place in pulp and several of them have been variously published in newspapers and magazines.

Basically when I'm walking I'm not consciously writing or intending anything. In the manner I have learned from meditation practice, I let things unfold.

There's nothing compared to the history of writing about the city of New York that you get, say, in Charles Reznikoff.

When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.

I had lost something in my youth and made money instead.