A Hot Wind Was Blowing Around My

The Short Answer To 'why Do You Write' Is - I Suppose I Write For Some Of The Same Reasons I Read: To Live A Double Life; To Go Places I Haven't Been; To Examine Life On Earth; To Come To Know People In Ways, And At Depths, That Are Otherwise Impossible; To Be Surprised.

You Fit Into Me Like A Hook Into An Eye A Fish Hook An Open Eye

Canada Was Built On Dead Beavers.

For Years I Wanted To Be Older, And Now I Am.

A Fist Is More Than The Sum Of Its Fingers.