But The Day I Can't Shrug Off

How Often Had That Hydrant Even Been Opened? Did You Jet Water Through A Car Window, What, Twice At Best? Summer Burned Just A Few Afternoons Long, In The End. As For Flying, Dose Never Even Glanced At The Sky. Flying Was A Summer Within A Summer, A Whim. So Why Think Of It At All?

The Computer Is The Way I'm Making Books, But I Still Think About The Physical Properties. I Visualize The Length Of A Book, The Proportions Of A Book, In Material Terms.

The More Film I Watch, The More John Ford Looks Like A Giant. His Politics Aren't So Good, And You Have To Learn To Accept John Wayne As An Actor, But He's A Poet In Black And White.

Writing Is Physical For Me. I Always Have The Sense That The Words Are Coming Out Of My Body, Not Just My Mind.

Nature, Or At Least Birds And Women, Abhorred The Invisible Man.