One cannot balance tragedy in the scales Unless one weighs it with the tragic heart.

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

Oh, Georgia booze is mighty fine booze, The best yuh ever poured yuh, But it eats the soles right offen yore shoes, For Hell's broke loose in Georgia.

When my own writing needs a perk, I open Zukofsky and read from "A" - particularly sections "22" and "23." It can be opaque, but I love the intensity.

At first I was blogging everyday, but I don't do that anymore. It varies; sometimes I'll write these little essays and other times political commentaries. Other times it'll just be new work that I'm doing.

I died in my boots like a pioneer With the whole wide sky above me.

Money is sullen And wisdom is sly, But youth is the pollen That blows through the sky And does not ask why.