For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

Black boys became criminalized. I was in constant dread for their lives, because they were targets everywhere. They still are.

Me and you, we got more yesterday than anybody. We need some kind of tomorrow.

Say make me, remake me. You are free to do it and I am free to let you because look, look. Look where your hands are. Now.

From my point of view, which is that of a storyteller, I see your life as something artful, waiting, just waiting and ready for you to make it art.

When I'm not creating or focusing on something I can imagine or invent, I think I go back over my life - I don't recommend this by the way - and you pick up, oh, what'd you do that for? Why didn't you understand this?

You marvel at the economy and this choice of words. How many ways can you describe the sky and the moon? After Sylvia Plath, what can you say?