All Poetry Is An Ordered Voice, One

When Your First Marriage Goes Into Tragedy, You Become Very Battle-scarred... I Even Thought Of Suicide. Luckily, I Had Known Some Happy Marriages.

Corncobs Are The Greatest Fire-making Tinder.

All Poetry Is An Ordered Voice, One Which Tries To Tell You About A Vision In The Un-visionary Language Of Farm, City, And Love.

Soldiers Of The American Revolution Fought That 18th Century War With Heavy Muskets. In The Early 20th Century, We Kids Fought It Every Fourth Of July Not Only With Exploding Powder And Shimmering Flares, But With All Of Our Senses.

The Corncob Was The Central Object Of My Life. My Father Was A Horse Handler, First Trotting And Pacing Horses, Then Coach Horses, Then Work Horses, Finally Saddle Horses. I Grew Up Around, On, And Under Horses, Fed Them, Shoveled Their Manure, Emptied The Mangers Of Corncobs.