I Became An Electrician After High School.

If It Had Been A Heart Attack, The Newspapermight Have Used The Word Massive,as If A Mountain Range Had Openedinside Her, But Insteadit Used The Word Suddenly, A Light Coming Onin An Empty Room. The Telephonefell From My Shoulder, A Black Parrot Repeatingsomething Happened, Something Awfula Sunday, Dusky. If It Had Beenterminal, We Could Have Cradled Heras She Grew Smaller, Wiped Her Mouth,said Good-bye. But It Was Sudden,how Overnight We Could Be Orphaned& The World Became A Bell We'd Crawl Inside& The Ringing All We'd Eat.

Read As Much As You Can. Write Only When You Feel The Inner Need To Do So. And Don’t Ever Rush Into Print.

I Get Inspired By My Friends, And If A Friend Is A Writer, That Is Even Deeper.

Some Part Of Me Knew He Would Show Up, That If I Stood In One Place Long Enough He Would Find Me, Like You're Taught To Do When You're Lost. But They Never Taught Us What To Do If Both Of You Are Lost, And You Both End Up In The Same Place, Waiting.

Perhaps It Is Our Fear, That In The Silence Between Stories, In The Moment Of Falling, The Fear That We Will Never Find The One Story Which Will Save Us, And So We Lunge For Another, And We Feel Safe Again, If Only For As Long As We Are Telling It.