I'm always writing. 24 hours a day I got my antenna up waiting to hear from the muse.
Most of the time the signal is weak, creaky.
But sometimes it's perfect.
Either way, I write it down.
And what happens is that I have a house full of little sheets of paper. Everywhere.
Sometimes I find one, and I say that's it. That's right and I put it in the pile of stuff I'm working on.
Sometimes I find one and wonder where it came from and where it's going. I put it back where I found it.
Here's one of the poems I put back where I found it.
Hurry Home -- It's getting late
Black man came out of the dark woods
singing a song
White man came out of the dark woods
singing the same song
Here's what they sang:
The graves of the dead
are the graves of the dead
In Jerusalem they do
the hokey pokey
and they turn it all around